“…I won’t survive it again.”
That nearly wrecked me.
I stepped closer carefully this time.
Slow enough she could back away if she wanted.
She didn’t.
“I’m not them,” I said quietly.
A tear slipped free down her cheek.
“You are,” she whispered. “You just don’t know it yet.”
I stopped in front of her.
Close enough now to smell lavender and roses.
Close enough to see the tremble she was trying to hide.
“I’m not leaving, Tessa.”
Her eyes closed briefly.
“Please,” she whispered. “Just go.”
But I stayed exactly where I was.
Because walking away from her now?
That wasn’t happening.
Not even a chance.
10
Ace
Isat in my truck long after the engine went cold.
Main Street blurred beyond the windshield while Tessa’s voice kept replaying in my head.
Six years.
Not one letter.
She didn’t believe me.
I scrubbed both hands over my face and leaned back against the seat.
None of it fit.
Not the woman I knew.
Not the way she carried herself like she was waiting for the ground to give out beneath her.
And definitely not the look in her eyes when she said people stopped believing her.
