Then a shadow moved outside the window.
“Becca?” Travis’s voice sliced through the walls, sharp and edged with impatience.
My stomach plummeted.
Travis stepped into view just beyond the open door, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, shoulders squared as if he owned the gravel beneath his boots. The jacket was navy, quilted at the shoulders. I’d given it to him for Christmas years ago because he was always cold and never admitted it. He still wore it. Of course, he still wore it, the stupid jerk. Rain darkened the fabric across his chest, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. His gaze locked on me first, then slid to Levi standing inside my trailer. Something dark flickered across his face.
“Didn’t realize you had company,” he said, the words clipped, almost accusatory.
“What do you want, Travis?” My voice came out flatter than I intended.
“I want to talk.” He took one step closer, boots crunching deliberately. “You’ve been dodging my calls. My texts. My visits. We need to talk.”
“I’m not dodging you. I’m done with you. So, no. We’re not talking. Not now, or ever. Plus, you stink. You come here wanting to talk, reeking of cigarette smoke, when you know I hate it? Give me a freaking break, Travis.”
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “We’re done when I say we’re done. You’ll talk to me. You always do.”
Levi moved then, a single, deliberate step that put him half a body length in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. He didn’t raise his voice. His presence was threatening enough. “She said no.” Each word was calm, measured, final.
Travis’s eyes narrowed to slits. “This isn’t your business, Barrett.”
“It is when you’re standing on her doorstep after she told you to leave.” Levi’s posture didn’t change. He kept his feet planted, with his shoulders relaxed. But there was a new tension in the air, thick and electric. The kind that made the small trailer feel even smaller.
Travis took another half-step forward, chin lifting as he caught sight of the paper bag on the counter. “You think you can just show up with food and play hero? She’s not yours to protect.”
Levi didn’t flinch. “She’s notanyone’sto protect. She’s a grown woman who said no. Multiple times. You’re the one who keeps showing up where you’re not wanted.”
Travis’s jaw clenched so tight I saw the muscle tense. His eyes flicked between us, calculating. For a moment, I thought he might lunge—actually lunge at Levi. The air felt electric, like right before lightning strikes. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white, and he leaned forward just slightly, eyes fixed on Levi as if he was weighing whether he could take him. Spoiler alert: There was no way Travis could ever beat Levi in a fight. The idea was just ridiculous.
Instead, he exhaled through his nose, a harsh sound. “This isn’t over, Becca. You’ll come around. You always do. You know it.”
“No,” I said, stepping up beside Levi so my shoulder brushed his arm. I looked at Travis directly, the way I should have done a long time ago, and kept my voice steady and clear. “I won’t.I want you to hear me this time, Travis, because I mean every word of it. We’re done. We’ve been done. I don’t want your calls, I don’t want your texts, I don’t want you showing up at my door or anywhere else I happen to be. That’s not negotiation, that’s just how it is.” I paused. “And if you keep pushing it, I will go to the police. I mean that. I’ll call Matt. I will file a report, and I will follow through.”
The silence that followed had weight to it.
Travis’s jaw tightened. His eyes cut sideways to Levi, doing the math, not liking the answer. For a moment, I thought he was going to push back anyway, because that was what Travis did, that was always what he did. But something shifted in his face—not remorse, nothing so clean as that—just the cold calculation of a man who had run out of room to maneuver.
“You’ll come around,” he said again, but it was quieter this time. Hollow. The last word of a man who no longer believed it himself.
“Goodbye, Travis,” I said.
Travis stared at me like he was trying to find the version of me that used to back down. When he didn’t, something ugly twisted his mouth. “Fine.” He spat the word. “Enjoy your little charity drop-off. But don’t think this ends here.”
He left the way he came, and I stood there watching until he was gone. Something nagged at me—the way his boots were wet past the ankle, the mud he’d left on my porch. What had he been doing?
The silence that followed felt deafening. I let out a shaky breath. My hands were trembling.
“He’s gone.”
I nodded, even though my knees felt like they weren’t entirely interested in holding me up anymore. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”
Levi gave a small shake of his head. “You didn’t need me. You were holding your own.”
“Still.” I let out a breath that almost passed for a laugh. “If you hadn’t been here, I might’ve finally followed through on my plan to kick his ass. And then I’d be explaining myself to my brother at the station.”
That got a short huff of a laugh out of him, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.
I turned away on instinct, needing something to do with my hands before they gave me away. Straightening things. Wiping something that didn’t need wiping. Anything that looked like control.
