Page 74 of The Encore’s Crown

“So you weren’t thinking clearly when your face was between my legs?”

“Nat—”

“No, don’t you dare get uncomfortable now. You were perfectly comfortable touching me. You were totally okay with letting me believe there'd be more between us.”

“I shouldn’t have let it go that far. I’m trying to do the right thing—”

Every part of me freezes. I look at my reflection in the window. Pale face, all the color draining from it, my mouth trembling. A woman who thought restraint meant care. An idiot who thought stopping meant he respected what this could become.

“For who?”

He has no answer, not for me. This isn’t for me. This is for Rafe, or the band or whatever fear Kiri carries around and worships like it’s wisdom. I swipe another tear away, furious that they keep coming.

“You better think really hard about this.” The words shake, but I force every one of them out. “Because this is it, Kiri. This is the last time I put up with your bullshit. You don’t get to pull me close when you want me and shove me away when you get scared. You don’t get to come back in a month, or six months, or the next time you see me and decide you miss the way I watched you or the way I make you feel.” He doesn’t interrupt, not once. I take a deep breath and my voice snaps. “Do you understand?”

The silence stretches. I can almost picture him, his jaw tight and eyes closed. One hand gripping the back of his neck while he convinces himself cruelty is kindness. Finally, he answers.

“I understand.”

My heart pounds so hard it hurts. Another pause. It lasts so long that some stupid, desperate part of me thinks he might stop this. That he might swear, tell me he’s being an idiot and ask if he can come get me as soon as he's back in Seattle. Instead, his voice turns quiet and final.

“Do what you gotta do.”

Something inside me breaks. I stand there with the phone still pressed to my ear, listening to nothing.

Then I hang up.

The phone slips from my hand and hits the floor with a clatter. My screen might be broken, but I don’t even care. I barely make it to the bed before the first sob rips out of me. I grab the pillow and crush it over my face, trying to smother the sound because Mama is downstairs waiting on me to cut onions and I wouldn't survive her coming in here. I can’t explain why I’m falling apart over a man I wasn’t even officially with. A man I was never supposed to let close. A man everyone warned me about, even though my stupid heart refused to believe them. A man who asked me to wait and made waiting sound like a promise. Like a future.

I curl around the pillow and let myself cry until my chest aches and my throat burns. Mama calls for me again and I manage to push it all down enough to yell back that I'm coming.

I leave the phone where it fell.

He doesn’t call back.

Chapter 31

Never Again

Kiri

Ikeep the phone against my ear. I listen to the silence she left behind. My mind making bargains with reality, like if I don’t move, the call hasn’t really ended. She might still be there, breathing on the other side, waiting for me to stop being a fucking asshole.

She isn’t.

The hotel room comes back around me slowly. Muted television. Curtains half-open over the Osaka skyline. Two glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table from room service even though it's five in the morning. Rithy sprawls in a chair opposite me, watching without looking like he’s watching. My thumb presses against the side of the phone. Her name is still on the screen in Khmer with a crocodile emoji. I did it on purpose so only Rithy or I would understand if her name popped up. No need for that now. She won’t be calling me. I made sure of that. I lower the phone.

Rithy lifts his glass. “To doing the right thing.”

I look at him. He tips the whiskey toward me until I pick up mine. The rims knock together. I drink because I don’t know what else to do. It burns all the way down. Rithy leans back, satisfied in that quiet way he gets when he thinks a problem has been solved.

“She’ll be pissed for a while.”

I stare into the amber at the bottom of my glass. “She sounded more than pissed.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs. “She’s dramatic.”

My eyes cut to him. He raises a hand. “I like her. Mostly. More than her uptight, boring sister. Doesn’t make her less dramatic.”