We collided with a thud, grappling and throwing wild punches. His fist caught my ribs, and I felt the wind knocked out of me. I retaliated with an uppercut that sent him reeling. My home became our battlefield, every corner a potential weapon or shield.
Connor grabbed a wrench from the floor and swung it at me. I ducked just in time, feeling the rush of air as it whooshed past my head. I tackled him to the ground, wrestling the wrench from his grip and tossing it aside.
We rolled on the concrete floor, trading blows. My knuckles throbbed with each punch I landed on his face. His eyes burned with fury as he fought back with equal ferocity. We were two wild animals, driven by anger and years of unresolved tension.
He managed to get on top of me, pinning me down with his weight. His fists rained down on me like hailstones, each strike sending jolts of pain through my body. But I refused to give up.
Summoning every ounce of strength left in me, I bucked him off and scrambled to my feet. My vision blurred with sweat and blood as I swung at him again and again until he fell back against the wall.
Both of us were gasping for breath now, our bodies battered and bruised. We stood there for a moment in the silence that followed our violent exchange—the only sounds were our ragged breathing and the falling snow.
But there was no victory here—just an overwhelming sense of emptiness and defeat that settled between us like an uninvited guest.
“Fucking pathetic,” Connor spat, blood dripping from his split lip. “Don’t come crawling back to me when she breaks your heart. And you know she will.”
He turned on his heel, leaving me in the aftermath of our brawl. The door slammed shut behind him, echoing in the empty house. I stood there, chest heaving, fists still clenched at my sides. Fury roiled inside me like a storm I couldn’t control.
Because he was right.
Why would someone like Beth want someone like me? She was light, and I was shadow. She couldn’t fix what was broken in me. No one could.
I walked to the fridge, my steps heavy with the weight of my thoughts. Pulling out a bottle of beer, I twisted off the cap and took a long, bitter swig. The cold liquid did little to numb the turmoil inside.
No way I was going to that party now. I had no place among her friends and their cheerful holiday spirit. Might as well rip the bandage off before I did something irreversible—like fall in love with her.
I sank onto the worn couch, the beer bottle cold in my hand. The room felt smaller, closing in on me with each passing second. Beth’s laughter echoed in my mind, mingling with Connor’s harsh words.
“Pathetic,” he’d said. And maybe he was right. What kind of fool thinks a few smiles and cookies could change anything?
Taking another swig, I let out a bitter laugh. Who was I kidding? Thinking Beth could be some kind of savior? She deserved better than a man who couldn’t even keep his own brother from self-destructing.
The beer didn’t help much; it just made everything fuzzier around the edges but sharper where it hurt most. Connor’s voice played on repeat in my head:She’ll move on once she sees the real you.
Maybe it was true.
I drained the bottle and set it down with a heavy thud. No more illusions, no more pretending things could be different just because someone smiled at me and sang pretty songs.
I wasn’t going to that party.
I stood up and grabbed another bottle.
Chapter19
Beth
The café hummed with warmth and laughter as the holiday decorations twinkled around the room. I looked over the bustling scene, proud of how the place had come together. Strings of lights, pine garlands, and the scent of spiced cider filled the air. Ellie had outdone herself with the playlist, a perfect mix of classic carols and upbeat tunes that kept everyone’s spirits high.
"Beth, you’ve outdone yourself," Ellie said, balancing a tray of gingerbread cookies. "Everyone’s having a blast."
I smiled, trying to ignore the empty seat near the corner window where Daryl was supposed to sit. "Thanks, Ellie. You really nailed the music tonight."
The place was packed. Friends and families gathered around tables, sharing stories and laughter. The holiday drinks were a hit; peppermint mochas and eggnog lattes flew from the counter as fast as we could make them. I circulated through the crowd, chatting with friends.
"These cookies are amazing!" someone exclaimed as they took a bite.
I laughed. "Glad you like them! Just a little something special for tonight."
Every so often, my gaze drifted to that empty seat by the window. I’d hoped Daryl would show up, even though he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in Christmas festivities. I’d seen a flicker of something when he heard me sing—curiosity maybe—but apparently not enough to lure him out tonight.
