Page 113 of From the Wreckage

She’s too pale, with shadows bruised beneath haunted eyes. Her gaze collides with mine, widening in surprise. For onefleeting second, joy flickers there—before it drains away, leaving her hollow.

Her fingers clutch the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. She’s drowning in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, the fabric stained. Her hair’s scraped into a half-assed ponytail, strands tumbling down, unbrushed, forgotten.

She looks like she doesn’t care if the world sees her or not. Like she’s hiding herself in plain sight.

“We need to talk,” I say, my tone rougher than I mean it to be.

“There’s nothing to—” She starts to shut the door.

My boot wedges in the frame before it can close. The wood thuds against the leather, jarring. I push it open, step inside, and close the distance between us.

She stumbles back, fear flashing in her eyes, and it tears me open.

“Yes, we do.” I shut the door quietly behind me, my gaze locking with hers. “Something happened.”

Her lips press tightly together. There’s no acknowledgement of my words. Just a whisper, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, I should.” I step closer, slowly and deliberately. “You need someone to talk to.”

She snorts, sharp and brittle. For a second, anger burns through the emptiness—and God help me, it feels like salvation to see something in her other than the void.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about. And if I did have something to say, it sure as hell wouldn’t be to you.”

The words slice, but I let them. I cross my arms over my chest, steady as bedrock, inching closer to her.

“Then say it anyway.”

Her eyes flash, fury and grief sparking together. “You left me.” The words tumble out, jagged and raw. “You let my dad tear us apart, and you didn’t fight. Not for me. Not for us. You promised you wouldn’t leave, and then you did. You let mebelieve I didn’t matter. That I was just…” Her voice breaks, but she forces it louder. “Disposable.”

Every word is a blade, but I don’t flinch. I take it. I deserve it.

Her fists shake at her sides, her chest heaving. “And now—” She falters, tears spilling over. “Now you think you can just show up here and fix me? You can’t, Everett. You can’t undo what happened.”

I hold my ground, my arms crossed, her storm battering against me.

Her breaths heave out of her lungs. She bites her lower lip, driving me crazy. As much as I want to tug it from her teeth, I can’t. She isn’t mine anymore.

The silence presses heavily around me. I lean in, low and unyielding. “You done?”

Her glare is defiant. She crosses her arms over her chest, not saying a word.

I tilt my head, stepping close enough to feel the tremor in her shoulders. “’Cause I think you’ve got more.”

CHAPTER 84

Brielle

The heat surgesbefore I can stop it. “You think I’ve got more?” My voice shakes, but I shove the words at him anyway. “Fine. You want to hear it? You didn’t just leave me once—you keep leaving me. Every damn time it mattered.”

He flinches, but I can’t stop—the dam’s breaking and all hell is about to be unleashed.

I step forward, my finger jabbing into his chest. “You made me believe I was worth something, Everett. That I mattered. And then the moment it got hard, the second my dad caught us, you shut down. You let me stand there, humiliated and gutted, while you said nothing.Nothing.” My voice cracks into a sob, but I choke it down. “You broke me before anyone else even had the chance.”

His face twists, pain etching deep, but I’m past the point of pulling back.

“And when I went back to school, when I needed you the most, when I was trying to hold it together—he was there.” The words tumble out before I can snatch them back. “Joey was there. Waiting. Watching. And when he?—”

My throat closes.