Page 209 of Tangled Like Us

Everything changes today.The first day of November.

I’m home. I lean back against the brick wall, right beside the adjoining door that leads to security’s townhouse. It’s so strange to think that just on the other side, Thatcher is meeting with the three leads to discover exactlyhowwe have to announce our breakup for tonight.

Press release.

Instagram post.

Rocket flare.

I can’t imagine a suitable way to do it because there’s no part of me that wants to wake up tomorrow and be someone less to Thatcher than what I’ve been. To rewind and be nothing more than his client again…

Ophelia nudges my hand for pets, and I stroke her white fur.

“Janie,” Maximoff whispers, his voice tough but incredibly consoling. He has an arm around my shoulders, and I lean my weight into my best friend.

His black eye isn’t so swollen anymore, but a yellowish bruise blemishes his cheek, the aftermath of the fight on the hill. Farrow only has a split lip, and Banks strained a muscle in his shoulder. I’m just thankful no one was more severely injured. Including Xander, who’s recuperating from a minor nose fracture.

I glance over at the kitchen archway. Seeing a portion of Donnelly’s outstretched legs. He’s sitting on the floor against the cupboards.

Farrow is next to him, the same way that Moffy is beside me. I walked past this morning and saw Donnelly pinching his watery eyes.

He was called here earlier to talk to the Tri-Force. They’re transferring him off Beckett’s detail. It wasn’t such a shock, really. Beckett learned about Donnelly’s deep-seated family history with drugs, and he didn’t want his bodyguard around cocaine. So he requested a transfer.

Everyone is trying to protect Donnelly, it seems. Oscar and Farrow were the ones to tell Beckett.

I take a breath in the quiet. Ophelia turns to Moffy, bumping her nose into his wrist. He scratches her, but looks at me. Deep empathy coursing through his green eyes.

He’s known longer than anyone that I’ve liked Thatcher. That I’ve been attracted to him. That I’ve slept with him, and he’s seen from the start where this could lead. And he’s been afraid for me. One-way roads. Not together. Different directions.

My lips are chapped and I lick the cuts forming on my bottom one. “I’ve been telling him that I don’t want him to quit security for me,” I whisper to Moffy. “And I don’t…but…at the same time, I do.” Tears well up in my eyes. “And I hate that part of me. That’d wish him to sacrificeanythingto be with me.”

I rub at my eyes.

Moffy hugs me closer. “Sacrifice is a part of being in a relationship with people like us,” he says softly.

Sacrifice.

I hear Beckett’s voice.

Ophelia darts off at the sound of birds chirping outside. I rest my cheek to his shoulder. Tears spilling down my face.

Moffy looks pained, but he hugs tighter.

I rub snot on the sleeve of my blouse. “I’m just thinking about how he’s going to come back through those doors and everything will be different. I won’t even be able to touch his hand…” I take a sharp breath. “Or run my fingers through his hair.” My sleeve is sufficiently wet. “He has really good hair.”

I try to smile.

Moffy tries too. “I know. He’s got great hair.”

We both laugh. Me through my tears. Him through his reddened eyes.

In all of this, I’m glad I have him. And just as deeply, I’m so very glad Thatcher has Banks. We both won’t be alone. No matter what.

And yet…

My heart is still breaking.

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