“Anywhere on my body?” He wiggled his brows. I took his casted palm in mine and kissed the tips of his fingers.

It was late evening, and I needed to go. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Staying with West was tempting, but facing the music was part of my healing process. I had to see tonight through. It was my first night alone in the house, without Grams. My first night alone, period. I had to get used to that.

“I’m glad you’re okay, West. I’m sure you need your rest, so I’ll be goin’ now.” I stood up, sliding my hand out of his. His grip tightened around mine. His throat worked around the word that slid out of his mouth.

“Don’t.”

I studied him silently.

“Don’t leave me. I’ve been getting real good at recognizing goodbyes, and once you go through that door, you are not going to come back.”

He wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t do this anymore. Put my heart on the line and hope he’d keep it safe. Not when he’d handled it so carelessly before.

“You’ll survive without me,” I whispered, a tear sliding down my cheek. It slipped into my mouth, its saltiness spreading over my tongue.

“Surviving is not gonna cut it anymore. I survived for five years before I met you. It wasn’t enough.”

He took a deep breath, groaning. Every breath put him in pain, and I was the reason he’d gotten beaten up so badly.

“I can’t unfeel, unlaugh, undo everything that went down between us.” He shook his head. “I can’t unlove you, Grace Shaw. You’re inked in my fucking DNA, to a point I’ve completely lost my ability to think straight. One second I mauled you like a bobcat, the other I pushed you away, not wanting you to get tangled up in my shit. I pushed you and pulled you and chased you and hurt you and worshipped you every which way, because I couldn’t say those fucking words the first time they sprang into my mind. I love you.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“You love me?”

“Shit, Tex. There’s no word for what I feel for you. That first night we hung out? When Grams went missing? It was the first time I felt like my old self again, before Aubrey died. Something about it was light and fun and just … real.” He let out a sigh. “You were stressed, and worried, and suddenly, I needed to step up. It was the first time I saw crumbs of my former self. I think it was because you gave me so much shit.” He laughed, covering his eyes with his forearm. “You just gave zero fucks about who I was. What my name meant in this town. I was drawn to that. And ever since that night, I couldn’t get enough of you. I consumed you in every form possible—friend, lover, roommate, colleague, peer. I just needed you around. Constantly. I tried to fight it. I tried telling myself it was nothing. But every time I took a step back, you, or Easton, or Reign—any-fucking-one in my life—put me back in my place and made me see I was all about this Grace Shaw life.”

I bowed my head, biting my lip to keep myself from bawling like a baby. I’d dreamed of this moment every night for weeks. Months, even. Yet now that he’d finally confessed his love to me, the words felt like beautiful, empty bullet cases.

He hurt me.

Not once.

Not twice.

I wasn’t stupid enough to put myself through it a fourth time without some sort of commitment. A sign that he would at least try to protect me from himself next time things didn’t work out.

“I love you, too, West. Which is why you have to let me go. What you are offerin’ me is not enough. I want everything. The fairy tale. The romance. I want a man who will parade me around like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world—precisely because, fixed or not, I will never be pretty in my own eyes. I need someone who is good for me.” I slipped my hand from his, watching him taking a ragged breath that nearly tore his chest apart. “And I’m dead scared that someone is not you.”

His eyelids fluttered shut. He was giving up. I could practically see the fight evaporating out of his body.

I wanted to drop to my knees and beg him not to.

Convince him to give me everything I needed so we could be together.

But it wasn’t on me.

It was West’s commitment to make.

His fight to win.

I turned around and walked away.

This time, I didn’t look back, as I left both the love of my life and my old, insecure Grace behind.

Slipping into bed that night was surreal.

The lack of sound Grams usually made around the house was jarring to me. Moving objects, snoring, talking, breathing—all those things were missing, and the loud quiet leaked into my bones like poison.

Karlie had texted me earlier, asking if I wanted her to drop in for a spontaneous slumber party. Nineties-themed movies, cheap wine, and this or that games. As tempting as it was, and as much as I wanted to get away from the chaos teeming in my own head, I knew my new self was better than running away like that.

I needed to see tonight through—and come out of it a better version of myself.

Still broken.

And wonky.

Asymmetrical.

But also whole.

And independent.

Stronger than I’d ever been.

As I tossed and turned in a bed that felt strange without West in it, after making sure the doors were locked, and the TV on, its static light dancing across my face so I wouldn’t feel quite so alone, I had a feeling I was on the right path.

It was going to be a bumpy one, for sure, but wherever this road was taking me—I was ready.

Grace

I threw myself into both work and school for the next week.

The premiere for A Streetcar Named Desire loomed large, casting its shadow across everything else in my life.

West was discharged from the hospital three days after I’d visited him. I sent food and get-well cards while he was at the hospital, but I hadn’t summoned the courage to visit him again. The ball was in his court now.

A couple days after West got back to Sheridan, he showed up in the middle of rehearsal. He was still banged up, his face puffy, and a few pounds down, but that didn’t stop my breath from catching when he appeared between the grand double doors of the auditorium, flashing his signature cocky grin, a candy stick peeking from the side of his mouth.

I was onstage when I saw him. Aiden stomped in with a dummy package of meat. The scene was our first encounter as Stanley and Blanche. Even though I knew I needed to retune my mind to the play, I couldn’t help but follow West’s movements with my eyes as he took a seat directly under the stage, in the front row, watching me with his cool, attentive eyes.

“H’lo. Where’s the little woman?” Aiden rumbled, puffing his chest.

I finally realized how West had felt when I came to see him fight all those weeks ago. We couldn’t be in the same room and not be consumed by one another somehow.

Pretending to light a cigarette and puff on it, I tore my gaze from West, throwing myself into the role.

“In the bathroom.”

Aiden shot his lines at me, and I quipped mine right back. We had good chemistry onstage. The more time had passed, the more I began to forget West was there and allowed myself to drown in the sweet magic of performing.

When the scene came to an end, with Tess walking in delivering her lines, Finlay clapped from his place in the first row, next to West, springing up to his feet.