Rekindling the Flame (Smoky Heights #1)

Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

WYATT

The ultimatum ripped me open to lay out there, but it has to be said. I had to call her out on the way she’s looking at me, all soft and pliant, a lot more than lust in those earthen brown eyes.

The only way I’ve survived having her back in my life, having her in the way I just did, is knowing it’s just sex. Losing her once ruined me. Having her back and losing her again? I might not have all her degrees, but I’m smart enough to know I wouldn’t survive it.

This emotional minefield is the dangerous territory our little pact was supposed to protect us from.

“Are you saying I can’t be honest with you about my feelings changing?” The way she pops a hip as she asks it says there’s a lot more sass to her words than shone through in that soft tone she used.

My voice is unmistakably bitter when my words come out. No way to confuse me for sweet. “If we’re going to be honest, let’s start from the beginning. I’ll go first. You left. We were together for five years, you were my entire future, Rory, and you left. In the middle of the goddamn night. You didn’t even tell me to fuck off, not even a thanks for a couple thousand nights together. Definitely not the courtesy of a breakup, some fucking closure or a fucking goodbye kiss.”

Her lower lip trembles and something inside me splits open when her eyes drop to the ground, unable to hold my own. This headstrong, brave, brilliant woman has never met an opponent she can’t face down, but apparently it’s me. Me and my shitty truths are too much for her.

Throw my arms up in the air, run a hand through my hair before I get out the rest of that thought. “Spent all my best years with you, planning out another seventy of them, and you leave me a one-paragraph note that broke my fucking heart.”

I spin on a foot, turn away from her and get a few steps of space, some air that doesn’t smell like her and sex, some fresh goddamn perspective. Grease, old metal, and all the things my life have looked like without her in it. Now even that’s tainted by her scent, her taste, her image too.

“What?” I taunt her, the cracked silence she’s choosing to grace me with. “Too much honesty for you?”

“Stop,” she whispers the plea. The way her shoulders hunch in on herself, so rare for her, should be my warning to take heed, but she’s always been reckless with my heart, why can’t I return the favor for once?

“You want some more honesty? Huh? Or are you still running from the truth, like you’ve been doing since you were twenty-one?”

Head down, her shoulders shake, and I’m not sure if it’s a silent sob, or fear that’s making her quake.

“Here’s another one. It should’ve been us. It should still be us.”

Her eyes don’t look up to meet mine, body trembling, but she’s opened this can of worms, and my filter can’t stop the rest of my ugly truths at this point.

“Ask me,” I insist.

She shakes her head.

“Ask me why I got it done.”

Rory shakes her head again and I can see tears forming in those brown depths, but not spilling.

“Aren’t you curious? How I went from dreaming of our kid together, to not being able to have any? Fucking ask me, Rory.” That last part comes out way too loud, but the volume isn’t what makes her flinch.

“Why.” She whispers the word, because she doesn’t want to ask, and she doesn’t want to know. She’s gonna hear it anyway. I wait until her eyes come back to mine before I give her the answer.

“If it wasn’t you, it wasn’t anyone.”

Tears spill over her lash line, and I don’t look away. I track every single one as it maps a path down her cheeks, and I memorize them, because I need to remember why she doesn’t belong here, not fall for her pretty lies another time. But I’m not done with my ugly truths yet.

“It should’ve been us, in the end. You were it for me, Aurora. You were all I ever wanted, but I wasn’t enough for you. You’re the one that wanted more from life.”

She shakes her head, not even wiping the tears away, but she doesn’t fight me with her words for once in her damned life, so I keep talking.

“It was your choice to do this to what we had. I didn’t get a say in it. Well, I’m having one this time. If you’re not for real, if you’re still leaving at the end of this, don’t do this to me again.” Now I’m the one pleading.

Truthfully, this is going to ruin me either way. I’m already too far gone for this girl. But she left for a reason, and she’s found what she was looking for, and I won’t be the reason she throws it all away. She wasn’t happy here then, she won’t be happy here now. Can’t let her make the mistake of believing she could be.

And for once, when it comes to her, I need to stand up for what I need. She’s always been my priority, always been the one I’ve fought to protect. Now, I need to fight to protect me too.

Besides, this is what’s best for both of us. If we can’t keep things purely physical, we need to stop. Doesn’t matter that nothing about this feels like the best when she runs off, wobbling in her heels on the uneven surface, clutching her open dress to hold it together as she goes, and I don’t chase after her.

Feels like the worst, truthfully.

And one more piece of honesty here, just for me, myself, and I. There isn’t a day that’s gone by since I was a teenager that I haven’t loved her.

Even when I should’ve hated her.

And I know I always will, even when she breaks my heart by leaving again, but that’s my burden to bear. I’m trying to keep her heart safe this time. Mine’s always been fucked.