She reached for my sleeve, but her fingers barely caught the fabric before I moved out of reach. Not cruel. Not dramatic. Just enough distance to keep myself from turning around and begging a girl who still couldn’t say what I was to her with her father watching.
Her mother stepped out of the way as I entered the hall.
No one stopped me.
That almost made me laugh.
A house full of people so worried about manners, and not one of them knew what to do with a man who refused to stay and be carved up politely.
I grabbed my coat from the entry bench. The marble floor shone beneath my shoes, spotless enough to reflect the chandelier, cold enough to make the whole house feel staged.Behind me, I heard Charm say my name again, softer this time, breaking around the edges.
I didn’t turn. If I turned, I’d see her face. If I saw her face, I’d give her another chance to cut me.
The front door opened beneath my hand, and winter rushed in like the night had been pressing its mouth to the other side, waiting. Cold air swept across the foyer, sharp and honest, cutting through the expensive heat of the house.
I stepped outside and shut the door behind me with more force than manners allowed.
The sound cracked through the porch, but I didn’t care. Let them hear something break.
Snow crusted along the edges of the driveway, bright beneath the security lights. The gates stood at the end of the long drive, iron and useless, like this family needed one more way to pretend the world only entered when they permitted it.
I made it halfway down the front steps before the door opened behind me.
“Ryan.”
Her voice hit my back.
I kept walking.
“Ryan, stop.”
I crossed the driveway toward my truck with my keys already in my hand, my jaw locked so tightly the pain crawled into my temples. My breath fogged in front of me, white and sharp in the cold. I hadn’t put my coat on. Didn’t feel it. The cold wasn’t shit compared to the heat tearing through my chest.
She was behind me, following now. Finding her voice now. Running after me across her perfect stone driveway now, after standing silent in that study while her father tried to carve me down to foster care, tattoos, bad blood, bad manners, bad odds, and a future too ugly to stand beside hers.
No foundation.
I reached the truck and yanked the driver’s door open when Charm grabbed the edge before I could climb in.
“Don’t leave like this.”
I turned on her so fast she flinched.
Maybe she needed to. Maybe she needed to see the part of me her father thought he could name. The part raised by streets, bad houses, locked doors, and people who taught me early that if someone spit in your face and you allowed it, they came back to see what else they could take.
“Move,” I said.
Her throat worked. “No.”
I laughed, dark and ugly. “Now you’ve got a voice?”
Pain flashed across her face. “That’s not fair.”
“Don’t say fair to me.” I stepped into her space, forcing her back against the open truck door while she still gripped the metal like she could hold me there by force. “Don’t you fucking dare stand here after what just happened in that house and talk to me about fair.”
Her eyes filled. “I froze.”
“You failed me.”
