Page 243 of Override

Now...He's trusting me to stand beside him while we end the worst chapter of her life.

I slide the phone back into my pocket as the elevator reaches the lobby.

Outside, my truck waits exactly where I left it.

Fifteen minutes.

That's all Ronan Gallagher has left.

****

The warehouse smells like rust. Oil. Rain that's found its way through a roof no one has cared enough to repair.

Ronan is exactly where the alert said he'd be. His hands are zip-tied behind a steel chair. A single light hangs overhead, throwing hard shadows across the concrete floor.

He looks up when I step inside. Recognition flashes across his face. Then confusion.

"You." His lip curls. "Where's Maeve?"

I don't answer immediately. Instead, I pull another chair across the concrete and sit down in front of him. Not close enough to touch him. Close enough that he has to look at me.

"I've spent the last few months trying to understand where you made your first mistake."

Ronan laughs, the sound hollow inside the empty warehouse. "My first mistake?"

"I initially believed it was the isolation." I shake my head. "It wasn't." "I thought maybe it was the cameras." Another slow shake of my head. "Not that either."

He shifts against the restraints, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth like he's waiting for me to get to the point.

"It was the assumptions."

Silence settles between us.

"You assumed compliance meant loyalty." His smile fades. "You assumed fear meant respect." His jaw tightens. "You assumed silence meant agreement." I tilt my head slightly. "The data doesn't support any of those conclusions."

He scoffs. "You don't know a damn thing about marriage."

"No." I don't. "But I know patterns."

I lean forward slightly. "And every pattern you built relied on the same variable." His eyes narrow. "You believed you were the only person capable of defining her world."

He laughs again. "She would've come back."

"No."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"How?"

For the first time since walking into the warehouse, I look directly into his eyes. "Because she had the opportunity."

He doesn't answer.

"I never asked her to stay. I never asked her to choose me. I never asked her to love me."

The silence stretches.