“Yeah,” I mutter, leaning against the car. “Well, this probably won’t help, but I don’t think she treated the last fix as a gift anyway.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I found this in your shed when I grabbed the tools.” I hold out the letter. “She left it with some cash. Goodbye letter. Mine was on her bed.”
I’d already read mine. Thank you, sorry, all that.
Like that was supposed to make it easier.
If I’d come back and she’d been gone, I would’ve gone after her. No hesitation.
She didn’t want to leave. That much was clear, even if she didn’t say it outright. She cares. That’s the part that matters.
Problem is, I’m already in too deep.
He takes the letter from me, sharp and quick, eyes narrowing.
“Didn’t read it,” I say.
Even though I wanted to.
He presses it briefly against his chest, then folds it and slips it into his back pocket, like it’s something breakable. He’ll read it later, alone. No chance I’m seeing that.
Damn.
“So,” I say, shifting my weight against the car. “There’s something else.” I hesitate, just a fraction. “About our fight.”
Talon gives me a dry look, waiting.
“This the part where you say you didn’t mean it?”
“Oh no, I meant every word,” I say. “Just shouldn’t have hit you that hard.”
“Hard?” he scoffs. “I barely felt it.”
“Oh yeah? How’s your nose?”
“Better than before. How’s your mouth?”
“Fantastic.”
He grins, shaking his head, and just like that, it’s done. No lingering tension. No drama.
I glance toward the house, then back at him, caught between going to Sierra and staying here.
I stay.
I’d seen Reid heading to her room earlier. They’re probably talking now—really talking. Years of unfinished business finally getting dragged out into the open.
I want in on that. Of course I do.
But not yet.
Patience isn’t exactly my thing, but even I know when to stay out of the way.
Still, it takes effort not to head back and at least hover nearby. I’m nosy by nature. I like knowing things.
But I make myself stay put.