Page 211 of Rising Heat

“No, honestly.” He lets out a short, humorless laugh. “What is this, exactly? You think this ends well for you, Darcy?”

Mack straightens beside me hard enough that his arm brushes mine, like he’s about two seconds from saying exactly what he thinks about this conversation and only holding it back because I’m the one talking. Tyler stays quiet on my other side, but I can feel him there every time I breathe, close enough that if I leaned even slightly, I’d hit his chest.

“You don’t know anything about this,” Mack says evenly.

“I know guys.”

Brett barks out a laugh, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re just a means to an end to him…to them…whatever the fuck this is,” he says, that calm tone finally starting to fray around the edges. “You wanted to feel wanted after running away from your life. Fine, I get it. But don’t confuse attention with being chosen, Darcy.”

Tyler doesn’t jump in. Mack doesn’t either. Neither of them tries to answer for me or rescue me from the conversation. They just wait, like the next words are mine if I want them and mine if I don’t. Brett watches me like he’s already decided what those words are going to be.

That’s when I realize how completely he’s missed it.

I didn’t leave because I wanted someone else.

I left because I wanted myself back.

“I did love you,” I whisper.

Hope flashes across his face before I keep going.

“But I spent three years trying to become somebody easier for you to hold onto. I’m not doing that anymore.”

“Dee—”

“No.” I shake my head. “You don’t get to show up here because you finally decided I’ve made my point.”

His mouth hardens into a thin line.

“You’re making a mistake.”

Maybe I am.

The thought lands fast and ugly because this—whatever this is with Mack and Tyler—still scares me more than I know how to explain.

But leaving Brett?

That’s the only part I’ve never doubted.

“Go home, Brett.”

For a second, I think he’s going to keep pushing. Then his eyes move past me one last time toward Tyler and Mack standing behind me. Tyler meets his stare without blinking while Mack stays completely unreadable beside him.

Brett lets out a slow breath through his nose and takes a step backward.

“This won’t last,” he snarls.

The words hang in the space between us.

Because maybe he’s right. Maybe this ends badly. Maybe all of this falls apart six months from now and leaves me wrecked in ways I haven’t even thought about yet.

But standing here now, looking at the man I once thought I’d spend the rest of my life with, I know with every bone in my body that I’d rather risk breaking my own heart than spend another three years slowly disappearing inside a life that never fit me in the first place.

Brett searches my face for another long second, like he’s still looking for the version of me he drove all the way to Boston expecting to find. I watch the realization settle over him. Then he turns and walks down the block without looking back.

I don’t realize how hard I’ve been holding myself together until he’s gone. My knees wobble so suddenly Tyler’s hand is already around my elbow before I can pretend I don’t need it.