Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Another burst exploded above like war drums dressed in red and gold glitter. She caught the reflection in her windshield but didn’t look back. The rich aroma of cinnamon and smoke hung heavily in the frigid night air as she rummaged in her tote for her car key.
“Wren.”
Her whole body seized at the sound of Greyson’s voice, her blood freezing. The thought of another Hawthorne confrontation threatened to shatter her completely.
“I don’t want to talk, Greyson.” Her survival instincts broke her out of paralysis, and she pulled the car door shut.
He caught it before it closed. “Just give me two minutes. Please.”
“Leave me alone!” She frantically fished through her bag for her key.
“Wren, please!”
She glared at him. It was a mistake. The fireworks reflected across his face as he searched her eyes. She refused to feel bad for him.
His five o’clock shadow stretched more than twenty-four hours old, proof he hadn’t slept at home. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his hair stuck up at odd angles like he’d been running his hands through it all night. The evidence of his rough evening should have satisfied her, but instead it only made her sick.
“Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it!”
“Wren, I didn’t mean to stand you up last night.”
She covered her ears. “I said I don’t want to hear it.”
He yanked her hand away. “Tough. You have to.”
“No. I don’t have to do anything. You had your chance. You had a hundred chances. I’m done, Greyson! Done with all of you.”
He recoiled. “You don’t get to throw us away like that.”
“There is no us.”
“You don’t understand.”
When he stepped closer, she shoved him back. “No, you don’t understand. Do you think last night was the first time your disappearing act made me cry? You’ve been doing this to me my whole life.”
“That’s not fair. I wanted to be there—“
“Then why weren’t you?” He was one of the most capable men she knew. “If you truly wanted this, you would have been there.”
“I do want this!”
“It’s my fault.” She batted away a tear. “I pushed you for more than you wanted to offer. You weren’t ready—”
“I’m not fucking scared, Wren. I want to talk about things. I want to talk about us. I’m ready.”
She offered him a sad smile. “No, you’re not. You spent fifteen years filling my head with empty promises, knowing deep down you were never going to truly be there for me.”
He released her car and staggered back. “That’s below the belt.”
“No, it’s dead-on.” She yanked the door shut.
“Wren, please. I know I messed up.”
The urge to hear him out pulled at her like gravity. She’d done it before—forgiven him for ghosting on her, excused him because she knew he struggled to communicate his emotions. But not this time. He was a grown man, and the time had come for him to understand his actions had consequences.
“I’m all out of second chances, Greyson.” She kept her eyes forward as she pulled away.
In her rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of him standing alone under the streetlight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as another burst of fireworks painted the sky in shades of gold. For a moment, his expression looked almost desperate—but she forced herself to look away.
This time, she wouldn’t turn back.
CHAPTER 16
“It Came Upon a Midnight Clear”
Sleep eluded Wren.
She flipped the pillow again, and kicked off the blanket like a frustrated child. Pulling back the sheet, she rolled left, rolled right, then tried lying face down like a corpse preparing for burial.
“Fuuuuuccccckkkkk…” she groaned into the mattress, her voice muffled by cotton and desperation.
Nothing worked. Her thoughts roared. Clanging-pot-in-a-small-kitchen loud, banging against her skull with the relentless persistence of a sledgehammer swinging from a metronome.
She growled and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling where twinkle lights reflected like fallen stars. Cozy, soft, warm. Useless.
The tangled sheets wrapped around her legs like restraints, and she kicked them away with growing frustration. Even the pillow she’d hurled across the room in a moment of desperation mocked her from its place on the floor.
“What was his excuse?” she whispered into the dark like someone who had lived alone so long they now had full-blown conversations with themselves.
Curiosity caffeinated her brain as she sifted through endless possibilities, wondering what excuse Greyson could possibly have for standing her up.
Alien abduction—no.
Boat trouble—too cold and too ten years ago.
Lost in the woods—unlikely.
Cold feet—bingo.
He was a man-shaped cliché.
But… why then, would he say he wanted to be there? He even said he wasn’t scared when she called him out on his bullshit.
She frowned, thinking about how devastated he looked when she refused to hear him out. Not stubborn, not mad, not even like he knew what was best for them. He just looked…terrified, like a wounded animal hiding in the shadows.