Chapter 12
Ryan leaned back on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair. Fuck, he was tired.
He could count on one hand the hours of sleep he’d gotten over the last few nights. It wasn’t enough.
The op had been… God, he didn’t have words. Exhausting. Dangerous. And the closest to death he and the team had ever come.
Safe. The word whispered in his head. He was safe.
But just because he knew it, that didn’t mean his body or mind believed it. Not yet.
He closed his eyes, but the op played over in his head, darkening his world. A world where days bled into nights. Where every step had him expecting a land mine to explode beneath his foot or a bullet to hit his skull.
But he wasn’t there anymore. He was here. In California. In Emily’s apartment. Alone.
Quiet slipped into his bones, almost feeling wrong after the noise he’d grown used to over the last month.
He sucked in a long breath, Emily’s floral scent filling his nose.
Safe.
The word repeated again.
The ringing of his phone pulled him out of his head. He grabbed it from his pocket and, without looking at the screen, answered…that was how fucking dead on his feet he was.
“Yeah?”
“I need to speak to you.”
He straightened and pulled the phone from his ear to make sure the name matched the voice. It did. “Melanie, is something wrong? Is Emily okay?”
“No. She’s not.”
Dread shot him to his feet and had him taking three long strides toward the door before Melanie spoke again.
“She turned down the part.”
Ryan stopped. “What?”
“They offered her the role. Lead actress in a multimillion-dollar Hollywood blockbuster. The one she’s done nothing but prep for and talk about for the last six months. And she turned it down.”
“She wouldn’t have done that.”
“She did. For you.” Melanie spat the last two words like they were acid on her tongue.
“What the hell are you talking about? Why would she—”
“Because she wants to be home with you between your missions. Because she wants to be close to you.”
The mission flashed back in his head. The chaos and terror. The bullets. The near hits to his skull.
Emily wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t give up her entire life for him. She knew he was a Navy SEAL. She knew what that entailed. He wasn’t a safe bet.
“If you love her like you say you do,” Melanie hissed, “let her go. Let her live her dream. Don’t take this away from her. She’ll never forgive you.”
Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, mixing with confusion, frustration, and anger.
It was her dream to become an actress. It was all she ever talked about. And she was good. Really good. When she slipped into character, she became that person. She embodied someone completely different.
And she loved it.
The door behind him opened. He hung up and turned.
Her beauty almost knocked him to his knees. All he’d seen these last few weeks was dirt and danger and the ugliest fucking crevasses that existed in the world.
She was everything that world wasn’t.
“Hey.”
Her soft voice usually smoothed the rough edges of his nerves. Today, it didn’t.
And when she crossed the room and threw her arms around him, all he could think was—no.
He wasn’t worth the risk.
He wasn’t worth her losing everything she’d worked so damn hard for.
She was too pure for a world like his. Too real. Too alive.
She pulled back and studied his face. “Are you okay?”
Could she see the exhaustion that made every inch of him ache? That clouded his mind and made thinking impossible?
She stepped back. “Did something happen on the mission? Are the guys okay? Oh God, is it Nora?”
“Nora’s fine. So are the guys.”
“What is it?”
He paused. “You got the part.”
Her back straightened, shock slipping over her features. “I did.”
“You turned it down.”
She paused. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
She swallowed, glancing around the kitchen like she was searching for the right words.
He didn’t want the right words. He wanted the truth.
Sudden anger cut through his chest like a knife. “You wanted this. It’s the biggest role you’ve ever been offered and it could ignite your career.”
“Ryan, you have to know why I turned it down. I’d never see you. I’d be away for nine months for filming. We barely see each other as it is! Our schedules would never align.”
“You’re doing this for me?”
“For us.”
“No.” Fuck no. “You’re not throwing away your future for me, Emily.” Screw that. He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t allow it.
“I’m not throwing it away. I’m prioritizing our relationship. I love you. I want to be with you as much as I can, and if that means staying here in California and taking smaller roles so that I can be home between your ops, then that’s what I want to do.”
“No.” He stormed around her, not really knowing where the hell he was going.
“What do you mean, no? It’s not your choice.”
“You’re taking that role.”
“I’m not.”
He spun back. “We’ve only been dating for five months.”
“Exactly. We’ve only been dating for five months.” She stepped closer, setting her palms to his chest. “And I already know…I choose you.”
“It’s the wrong choice.”
She pulled her hands back like he’d burned her. “Fine. But it’s still my choice.”
He shook his head. “This role, this career, it’s all you’ve ever wanted.”
“Until you.”
“I’m not letting you throw away your future for me.” Fuck, he was tired. A voice in his head told him this wasn’t the time for this discussion. He needed sleep. He needed to regain some sense of normality.
But he couldn’t stop.
“I’m not throwing away anything,” she gasped.
“A life with me isn’t stable. I disappear for months at a time…fuck, some guys don’t come back.” This time, he almost hadn’t.
She flinched.
Shit, he didn’t want to hurt her. But he needed her to see reason. “This is your chance. You are not turning it down so you can sit around and wait for a guy who might not even come home.”
“Stop it, Ryan.”
“I’m not going to be the mistake you wake up to in ten years and realize you gave it up for the wrong reason.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “I’m not giving up anything. I’m choosing something.”
“You’re choosing wrong, and I won’t allow it.”
“Allow?” She stepped back.
“Yes, allow.”
“What is even going on right now? I love you, Ryan. That’s enough.”
Stop it. Close your fucking mouth and stop pushing away the only good thing in your life.
But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t listen to the warning. Because he couldn’t let her do this.
“I’m leaving, Emily.”
Color left her face. “Leaving? For how long?”
“We’re done.” Pain. It sank through the fatigue and mess in his head.
She shook her head. “No. You’re not breaking up with me.”
“I am.” His words slowed, like even he couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“You’re breaking up with me because I turned down a job?”
“I’m breaking up with you because you deserve a life that’s more than just waiting for me.” He inched closer. “Because you were born to act, to let the entire world see your talent, not just me.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I just did.”
Broken. Exhausted. Completely shattered. That’s how he felt. Yet he couldn’t steer himself away from this ruin that he’d created.
“Don’t.” The word was barely a whisper. “Don’t do this.”
Take it back. Take her in your arms and make this better, you idiot.
Again, he didn’t listen to the warning. He’d passed the point of sanity.
“Goodbye, Emi.” He leaned down and touched his lips to her forehead, then he walked out, leaving his shredded heart with Emily.
Ryan shot awake, the dream, the memory making sweat break out on his brow.
Shit…he hated thinking about that day. He hated dreaming about it. He hated that it would always exist inside him because his brain never let him forget.
It had been a week since he’d tucked Emily into bed at the inn. A week of trying to keep his distance because being near her and knowing she’d never be his was becoming too hard.
And in that week, he’d had this fucking dream every night. Ever since she’d told him her mother had blocked his number and changed his contact information.
He pushed off the sheets and jumped out of bed. He needed to run. He needed to do something, anything, to get her out of his head. Otherwise he’d just think about her all damn day.
Emily pushed fried rice around on her plate. The restaurant was loud, though she barely heard it.
Usually, she loved Chinese food. It was probably her top dinner choice, closely followed by Thai and pizza, because who didn’t love pizza?
But there was something about her mother leaning against the table and charming the pants off every person there—Roscoe, Preston, and Faye, a couple of film crew—that just completely wiped her appetite.
Clearly, Melanie Prior had been born to act too. The fact that she could switch so effortlessly from evil, meddling mother—who lied and connived and blocked numbers on her daughter’s phone—to this extroverted storyteller was actually impressive.
She dropped the fork to her plate and fiddled with the napkin in her lap, trying not to let her mother’s voice grind on her nerves.
A week had passed since their fight on set. And not even an hour later, her mother had acted like nothing had happened. Hell, the very next morning, she’d just waltzed into Emily’s trailer and started talking about some dream she’d had.
“You remember, don’t you, darling?” Her mother touched her arm.
Emily smiled and nodded. But it wasn’t her usual perfectly symmetrical one. It probably came across as wonky. Maybe even a bit unhinged.
As her mother continued talking, Faye leaned in on her other side. “Are you okay? You’re tearing apart that napkin like it’s done you dirty.”
She looked down, and yep, it was in pieces.
“I’m fine, just tired.” She dropped the napkin.
Preston scoffed from the other side of Faye. “Well, maybe your boyfriend will bring you back to life.”
Emily frowned. What was he…
She sighed when she saw him.
Ryan stepped inside the Chinese restaurant.
And holy hell, he looked good. His gray hoodie made his broad shoulders look wider than usual, and even through his jeans, she could see the power in his thighs.