Chapter Twenty-Two #2
The joy drains from her face like someone flicked a switch.
She stiffens, holding a squirming puppy tight against her chest like it’s a shield.
I freeze, my heart slamming into my ribs.
My stomach drops, and the moment, filled with soft laughter and sunshine, curdles into something sharp.
The air between us crackles with tension, thick enough to choke on.
The puppies bark and tumble around my boots, but the only thing I can focus on is the storm brewing behind her eyes.
She’s not just mad.
She’s looking at me like I betrayed everything good we ever had.
And I don’t know how to fix it.
I don’t even know if I can.
But standing here, seeing that spark of happiness vanish the second she saw my face? It guts me.
I try to speak, but nothing comes. Not yet. Not with that look Lyric’s giving me.
I’ve faced deals gone south, men twice my size swinging fists, and pressure that would break most. But nothing compares to this, standing in front of the woman I love and knowing I might have ruined her idea of what we were supposed to be. And fuck, if that doesn’t tear me up from the inside out.
She was so happy moments ago.
I thought I picked the right time to make my move.
I thought I was breaking through her walls.
I thought I was making progress.
As I glance into Lyri’s eyes, and she stares at me, not saying a word, I think maybe Dax was right—it’s too soon.
The tension in the air is so thick, so palpable, not even a freaking chainsaw could cut through it.
Her intense green eyes shine back at me, but they’re not holding the same life they usually do.
They’re dull like the sparkle has faded, and they now only show despair and sadness.
I need to say something.
Break this silence.
So, I say the only thing that can be said at this time. “I’m so sorry.”
She snorts out an almost maniacal laugh.
“Sorry, you lied? Sorry, you got caught out in that lie? Sorry, you deceived me for months? Sorry, you made up this persona of who you are? Sorry, I fell for it and you, hook, line, and sinker? Sorry, I can’t trust anything anyone says anymore.
Are you sorry for that?” She says everything in a rushed, quick succession.
The puppy handler subtly purses her lips, then quickly averts her eyes like she doesn’t want to be anywhere near this explosive conversation. I don’t blame her. This wasn’t what I was expecting either.
“Lyri, I know what I did was wrong, and I will spend forever making it up to you. Just please… let me.”
She scrunches up her face. “So, all this…” She waves her hands around. “The notes on Monday, the puppies today, this was your grand gesture?”
I shrug. “You get to keep one of the puppies. Did the handler tell you?”
Her eyes bug open wide as her head snaps around to the handler, who nods. “He’s correct. All paid for in full. You can choose anyone you like.”
Lyric gasps as the puppy she’s cradling nestles deeper into her chest. Her arms wrap around it tighter, like letting go isn’t an option anymore.
There’s a soft sound in her throat, something torn between a laugh and a sigh, and she presses a kiss to its head like it’s already hers.
Then she looks up at me, her eyes glassy but sharp.
“A puppy won’t fix our problems, Chase. You lied to me about who you are. ”
Her words hit like a gut punch, low and solid, knocking the breath from my lungs. My throat thickens as I try to speak. “I know, but I did that for—”
“I don’t want to know, Chase.” Her voice spikes, slicing through my explanation before I can even reach it.
“I’m not ready to hear any of your fucking excuses.
You told me you loved me. I said it back.
That’s huge for me, and then your father shows up wanting to sign me to the very thing I want least in this world.
” She lets out a bitter laugh, the kind that makes a man feel like he’s watching something beautiful burn.
“You made a fool of me, Chase. You ruined me. And I can’t forgive that, no matter how cute these puppies are. No matter how amazing your notes are. No matter how much I miss you. I. Can’t. Forgive. You.”
Each word lands like a blade, precise and merciless. My shoulders lock up, every muscle pulled taut like I’m bracing for another hit that never comes. My jaw clenches, aching from the pressure, and my hands ball into fists at my sides as I fight the instinct to pace or break something.
I want to argue, to tell her everything she doesn’t know, but my voice is gone, strangled by the weight of what I’ve done and how completely I’ve wrecked our relationship.
My chest is hollow, but somehow it still feels too full.
Like my heart’s swelling to the point of breaking, only it already has.
This rejection isn’t like the last one.
This one cuts deeper.
Her tone, her body language, her resolve. It’s not just anger now. It’s devastation. Finality.
She’s not pushing me away out of spite. She’s closing the door because I gave her no choice. And standing here, helpless and cracked open in front of her, I feel more like a stranger to her than I ever did pretending to be one.
My stomach churns as the weight of my mistake settles like lead in my gut. Dax was right. I came in too early, too hard, desperate to fix what I hadn’t earned the right to touch again. I should have waited. I should have fought smarter.
Instead, I let my need override the plan.
And now? I have probably lost her for good.
“C’mon, brother… let’s go.” Dax pulls my arm. I didn’t even hear him walk up, and Lyric didn’t acknowledge he was there.
My face falls as I make one last-ditch effort. “Lyri, I love you, and I’m not going to quit. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”
She looks at the puppy in her arms, cuddling it tighter to her chest, avoiding eye contact with me. “Don’t hold your breath.” Then she adds, “But I am keeping the puppy.”
Suddenly, a sliver of hope bolts inside me.
That puppy can only be a reminder of me.
That’s how I see it anyway.
There’s no way I’m giving up now, or ever.
She’s giving me an inch, fuck if I’m not going to take a damn mile. I exhale, turn, and start walking off with Dax, feeling a slight pep in my step.
She hasn’t given up.
Not completely.
She’s merely making me work for it.
And I don’t blame her.
I fucked up—royally.
So, I have to do something big. Epic. Something she will never expect of me. Something no one else has been able to do. And I know just the thing.
This is not the time for phase four.
Prepare for ‘The Hallmark Maneuver.’