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It was somewhat ironic that the reason I was currently sitting in a Ryde, headed to Alex’s house—was because of Brendon. For the first time in the near decade that I’d known him, he’d actually done something to help me. Funny how it was his same horrible bullshit that’d inspired this rash decision.

I’d been waiting at my gate, fraught with emotion, when I’d turned my phone on for the first time since Alex had made me turn it off. Immediately my inbox was flooded with messages.

Brendon

Is this another one of your dramatic cries for attention?

A misguided attempt to make me jealous?

It’s not going to work.

Did you forget that I know you?

He’s not going to stick around.

And you’ll come crying back to me soon enough.

You’re pitiful, George. You and I both know that.

And then, a few days later.

Brendon

I need to speak to you when you’re back in office, Monday.

Pretending he’d never sent the above nasty text messages at all.

Brendon

I have a question for you about the design you completed before you left. The Donaldson’s have asked for a few revisions that I need to go over with you before I meet with them on Tuesday.

Most of the things Brendon had said were commonplace. He often tried to make me feel small. And though this was my first time outright antagonizing him—nothing he’d texted me had been surprising or new.

He’d never been good with boundaries.

He’d never been kind.

He enjoyed seeking me out when I least expected it.

Got a sick kick out of knocking me to my knees with a few, well-planned words.

He knew he had me on the hook—like Alex had said he did.

Only…that apparently wasn’t the case anymore.

A week ago, I’d be tied up in knots over this, choking on so much emotion I’d never be able to detangle it. Sick to my stomach. Quaking. Bile climbing up my throat. But that was a week ago. This was now. And for the first time in years , seeing Brendon’s name pop up on my phone didn’t fill me with icy dread.

I felt no longing for a life I didn’t have .

I felt no fondness.

I felt no anger, no mourning, no grief .

No fear. No apprehension. No anxiety.

There was simply…

Nothing.

Nothing.

Huh.

I set my phone down on my lap, at a loss for words. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew why things were different. I’d admitted as much to my mother—twice now—once before the wedding, and once after, when I’d said goodbye and she’d told me to be honest.

But even with that encouragement I hadn’t been able to force the words free. Not when Alex had been so impossibly handsome, his dark hair dripping, his pale eyes lost. He’d needed me to chase him. He’d needed me to take the lead like I had that night in the bathroom.

I hadn’t.

Hadn’t thought I was allowed .

Hadn’t been brave enough, good enough, strong enough to take a chance on something so irrational. Something that directly defied the lines that Alex had drawn to enclose our relationship. I’d been waiting for him to do it. Waiting for him to tell me what I wanted to hear.

I’d left my future in his hands.

Just like I’d done with Brendon.

Instead of seeking what I needed for myself. Instead of…standing my ground. Instead of becoming the master of my own fate. I’d let someone else dictate my happiness.

In my defense…I’d never been involved with someone who treated me like I mattered. Someone who needed me as much as I needed them. Someone who looked at me like I was as perfect as I’d always wanted to be. Someone who didn’t mind my flaws, just like I didn’t mind theirs. It wasn’t until that hit me —the uncomfortable, shocking truth of that statement—that it registered that my relationship with Alex had the potential to be equal.

Equal.

In a way I’d never been allowed to be.

Equally imperfect. Equally invested. Equally enamored.

And if Alex and I were equals, if what we shared was fifty-fifty and if our intensity matched as well as I knew it did…then that meant I was just as capable of taking that first step toward “something real” as he was.

Mom had said he wasn’t perfect.

And while I’d understood the sentiment, in my head I’d disregarded it. In my eyes, there was nothing he could do wrong. In my eyes, he was as close to perfect as a person could get.

But as I sat there thinking about Alex. Thinking about the way he shied from compliments, the way he hid his emotions, the way he seemed genuinely terrified of opening up—a shockingly horrible realization occurred.

Maybe Alex hadn’t asked me for more—not because he wasn’t interested, but because he didn’t think I’d want him the same way.

Maybe flirty, charismatic, good-at-everything Alex was scared too.

Maybe he was just as worried about appearing perfect as I was.

Maybe he would never, ever make the first move—because needing me was something he was too terrified to admit.

And maybe… maybe he’d been waiting. Hoping. Worrying. Scared I would be another person to let him down. Beneath the wall of muscle, the smiles, and the outward confidence…Alex was as vulnerable as I was.

My thoughts spun, horror dawning as reality set in.

Confirmation of my lack of feelings toward Brendon was the final nail in the coffin. And as I fiddled with my phone, dazed, and warm , I realized the fear that had silenced me earlier was gone. Mom had told me that the best things in life were illogical. She’d encouraged me to take chances. She’d promised she’d be proud of me either way .

She’d given me the cushion I needed to take the fall—if there was one.

She’d offered me comfort—no matter the outcome.

And yet…here I was—in limbo.

But no more.

No fucking more.

If there was anyone in the world I could be vulnerable with it was Alex. He didn’t need to be scared of me, just like I didn’t need to be scared of him.

We…deserved a fighting chance.

And I was going to fight for it.

If Alex didn’t want to be my real boyfriend, he could say that to my fucking face. There were more flights home. Who cared if I missed a day of work? In fact, who cared if I missed all of them. I’d have to talk to Missy about keeping Mr. Pickles for a little longer, but?—

The point was…

While there were endless opportunities to tell Alex how I felt about him, none were as optimal as right here, right now.

I wanted to tell him I loved him for the first time in person.

Wanted to feel his smile.

Wanted to see his expression.

Wanted to twist my hands in that dark, dark hair and prove to him that he wasn’t the only person who was capable of giving chase.

It was raining, like a cheap rom-com. The kind Alex had privately admitted he loved.

This would be a ridiculous gesture of disastrous proportions.

By all rights—a horrible, terrible, bad decision.

My worst yet.

It could go so wrong.

But…

It could go so right, too.

It’d be a declaration as silly, as dramatic as we both were .

And that was… perfect , wasn’t it?

The perfect conclusion to our love affair.

We’d started this thing together—and we were going to end it that way too. At least, if I had anything to say about it.

If someone had told me it’d take less than a week for me to fall in love again, I would have laughed in their face. I would have scoffed and growled, and possibly stormed off. The sentiment was frankly ludicrous. And yet…that’s what I’d gone and done.

Mom was right.

It was time to choose my own happiness.

Maybe the best things in life had no logic at all. Because I certainly felt excited at the prospect of seeing Alex again. Of surprising him. Of watching his eyes go wide. Of breaching that distance between us for the final time.

Pulled out of my thoughts, I recognized a familiar glint of silver. Frowning, I moved my bag out of the way, horror dawning when I realized what exactly I was seeing. Alex’s watch. His special, precious—most prized possession….on the floor.

I’d heard a little thunk when I’d retrieved my phone but I hadn’t thought anything of it.

Reaching down, my heart skipped a beat as my fingers met the worn metal.

There were a lot of dings in it, betraying its many years. The watch face didn’t move, stuck forever on 6:52. Running my thumb over the smooth surface, I struggled to breathe.

Brendon’s texts sat open on my phone screen. I’d read them. They’d incited no reaction.

But this?

This was…

I pressed my lips to the watch face, eyes pinched shut. The drum of my heart was louder than the thunder I’d left behind outside. Thump, thump, thump .

If there was such a thing as a sign, this was one.

And Alex had left it for me.

What exactly it meant, I wasn’t sure. But it certainly meant something.

Emboldened, I opened my eyes and put the watch on. Its weight was welcome. Comfortable. Comforting, more accurately. Like Alex’s fingers were looped around my wrist. I sucked in a breath, steadying myself.

I called my mom.

She didn’t have Alex’s address, but she said Joe did. I figured if I couldn’t call Alex—like an idiot I’d forgotten to ask for his number—I’d simply go to him.

That was what Ryde was for, wasn’t it?

A man on a mission, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and made my way out of the airport.

I should have known things would not be that easy. It’d been eons since I’d traveled through Columbus alone—and I’d naively thought it’d be a straight shot to Alex’s house to confront him and sweep him off his feet, of course.

Only it wasn’t.

Because about ten minutes into the drive we were stopped by the tail end of a train. The thing was long enough it’d blocked several roads, and the driver assured me we were better off simply waiting for it to pass.

It was annoying…yes.

But I figured it couldn’t possibly delay us for long.

Rain poured down on us, water trickling down the glass and onto the drenched asphalt. Street lights glistened, growing brighter by the minute as the sun sank lower. The sky was a mix of sunset and stormy gray, fat, angry clouds blocking its pastels from view.

Swipe, swipe, went the windshield wipers, a steady beat that would’ve been soothing if I wasn’t so on edge.

On edge because I was so close.

So fucking close.

Nervous energy buzzed beneath my skin, zipping up my arms and down my legs, settling at my fingers. I plucked at my backpack strap, over and over, matching the beat of the wipers on the window. Alex’s watch was warm.

My phone vibrated, and when I glanced down, it was Brendon again.

Brendon

?

A single question mark.

What an asshole.

I was tempted to ignore him. But then…it occurred to me that maybe taking a different approach would be more…effective. Fuck it. I swiped up for a call. It rang six times before Brendon answered.

That was another game he’d always liked to play. Even when he’d told me to call him, he’d wait till the end to answer—in an attempt to make me feel like I was inconveniencing him.

It didn’t work.

Not anymore.

“Hello?” Brendon sounded pleased with himself. Like this was a battle that he’d won.

I waited to feel something. Anything. Fear—guilt—dread.

But it didn’t come.

No flicker of affection, no iciness, nothing .

“I’m assuming this means you missed me?” Brendon drawled, in the same tone of voice that had used to break me apart and stitch me back together again. Only now, he was…off-putting. Like he was trying too hard. Throwing up a front to appear more powerful than he was.

A small man standing on stilts.

“I quit. ”

Silence. Those two words were met with complete and utter silence. For a beat, all I could hear was breathing on the other end of the line. And then Brendon spoke again, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I quit.”

“You can’t quit.”

“I just did.” And with that, I hung up and blocked his number. I’d call our boss in the morning. Maybe I’d even be honest about why I was quitting—now that honesty was going to be my new thing. I could throw Brendon under the bus for the sexual harassment I’d had to endure since we’d broken up.

But…I didn’t focus on that.

Didn’t feel anything but calm, as the end of the train finally came into sight.

Calm, because I’d be seeing Alex again.

Calm, because he needed me.

Calm, because for the first time in my life I wasn’t letting anyone else decide my fate.

The train rattled by, and it wasn’t until the boom barriers had risen that I understood Alex and I were more like-minded than I’d thought. Because across the tracks, in front of a second train, was a car.

A very recognizable, very sexy car.

And Alex was inside it.