“Hey,” he says simply.
“Hey,” I echo, unsure what else to say. It’s strange how you can share a bed with someone for years, share a life, and then suddenly become awkward strangers.
“How are you doing?” he asks, his voice softer than I’m used to hearing it.
I gesture vaguely at the house behind me. “Just doing a final walkthrough. It goes on the market next week, and Diane says she’s already getting interest.”
He nods, glancing at the garden beds. “I heard you got a job in Billings. That’s great, Kayla. Really.”
“Thanks.” I study his face, the new lines around his eyes, the shadows beneath them. “You’re not wearing your cut.”
He starts to rub his chest with his hand. “No. I’m no longer part of the Devil’s Rejects.”
The statement is so unexpected that for a moment I think I’ve misheard him. “What? But… they’re your family. The club is everything to you.”
Roman shrugs, a small, sad movement. “They shouldn‘t have been. They shouldn’t have been more important to me than you. And after what happened to you, after how they treated you, I couldn’t stay.” His eyes meet mine, unguarded in a way I’ve rarely seen. “None of it means anything without you, Sunshine.”
The old pet name sends a pang through my chest. I want to be unmoved, to hold on to the anger that has sustained methrough everything, but I can feel it slipping away like water through cupped hands.
“I wish you’d realized that sooner,” I say, unable to keep the regret from my voice.
Roman takes a step closer, hope flickering across his face. “Is it too late? Because I swear to you, Kayla, I will never prioritize anyone or anything over you ever again. I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll just give me one more chance—”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “It is too late, Roman.” The words hurt to say, but they’re true. “I can’t forget. I can’t forget being alone and terrified in that warehouse while you were promising Naomi that nothing was more important to you than her safety.”
Roman flinches at the mention of Kit, but I press on.
“And it’s not just what happened during the kidnapping. It’s the months before that. It’s the way you shut me out of the most important parts of your life, and I let you.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the sun. “I knew you were hiding things from me, and I never truly protested. I never pushed back. I just… accepted it.”
“Kayla—”
“I need to leave this place and figure out who I am,” I continue, the words pouring out now. “I need to understand why I let you sideline me so easily. Because the truth is, I don’t trust you right now, but I also don’t trust myself.”
Roman stands there, his hands hanging helplessly at his sides, pain etched into every line of his face. After a long moment, he nods, accepting defeat.
“I understand,” he says quietly. “But Kayla? If you ever need me for anything, I’ll be there. I promise I’ll never leave you alone in the dark again.”
He turns to go, and I watch him walk away, back straight, shoulders squared, fighting to maintain his dignity even as I’ve crushed his hopes. The sight of him leaving makes my chest ache with a fresh wave of grief for everything we’ve lost.
By the time I find Diane waiting in the kitchen, I’ve managed to compose myself. As I pull out of the driveway for the last time, I don’t look back at the house or the garden beds or the flower bulbs sleeping beneath the winter soil, waiting for a spring I won’t be here to see.
* * *
The courthouse bathroom is mercifully empty as I splash cold water on my face, trying to erase the evidence of tears. I hadn’t expected to cry during the proceedings. I’ve had months to prepare for this moment, after all, but when the judge pronounced our marriage officially dissolved, something broke loose inside me. The dam I’d carefully constructed crumbled, and I’d barely made it through the final paperwork before excusing myself to fall apart in private.
I pat my face dry with a rough paper towel, studying my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are still puffy despite my efforts, but at least the mascara streaks are gone. I look tired. Sad. But also somehow lighter, as if something heavy has been set down after being carried too long.
“It’s done,” I whisper to my reflection. “It’s over.”
The words should bring relief, but instead, they hollow out a space inside me that aches with emptiness. I take a deep breath, straighten my blazer, and gather my purse. Time to go home; to my new apartment in Billings, to my new job, to my new life.
When I push open the bathroom door, I stop short. Roman is leaning against the wall across the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the floor. He’s wearing a suit, althoughhe’s already loosened the tie. I’ve seen him in a suit exactly twice before: on our wedding day and the night of our disastrous date. The sight of him dressed so formally makes my heart skip traitorously.
He looks up at the sound of the door, and our eyes lock. For a moment, neither of us speaks. What is there to say now that a judge has officially severed the ties between us?
“I thought you might have already left,” I finally say, clutching my purse strap like it’s a lifeline.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Roman replies, pushing off the wall to stand straight.