All that’s left is ice.
She inhales, exhales. Slow. Measured.
“This was a mistake.”
The words hit like a punch to the ribs.
“Lila—”
“You have to go.”
I step toward her, but she holds up a hand, fingers shaking just slightly. “Ben, just—please.”
Please.
I’ve heard her say it before.
All those years ago.
This isn’t a plea for me to stay, it’s a demand for me to leave.
For me to let her go.
I clench my jaw so tight it aches. My hands curl into fists at my sides. Everything inside me is screaming to fix this, to pull her back, to remind her what just happened, what we just had and just like that, the anger starts to burn.
Not the frustration I’ve been wrestling with all night.
No, this is different.
Because I let her in.
Because I kissed her like she was still mine. Tasted her. Worshipped her.
Now she’s shutting down like it never happened. Like I never happened.
For the first time, it hits me. Maybe this was the plan all along, this was what she wanted, her revenge. Fifteen fucking years, and I walked straight into her trap like the lovesick idiot I swore I’d never be again.
A sharp laugh escapes me, bitter and breathless.
“Right.” I exhale, shaking my head as I take a step back. “You got what you wanted, huh?”
Lila stiffens. “What? No! Ben—”
I don’t let her finish.
I swipe my coat off the chair, shove my arms through the sleeves, barely feeling the movement. My blood is still pounding, my pulse still wrecked from her, from what we just did.
But fuck her.
Fuck this whole night.
I storm past her, heading straight for the door.
She doesn’t stop me.
She doesn’t even try.
The bell above the cafe door jingles as I yank it open, the night air rushing in, biting cold against my heated skin.
