Chapter 15 #2
She shook her head, blinking furiously against the sting of tears. “You’re right,” she said, voice steady despite the earthquake in her chest. “You deserve better. But so do I, which is why I’m done with all of you.”
He froze, his anger faltering. “Wait—what?”
“I’m done, Soren.” Her voice cracked. “Done pretending any of this is romantic or hopeful or even remotely close to a healthy relationship. I’m not someone you get to use to shore up your future.
I’m not even sure why I let the three of you decide so many things about my past.” She shook her head, disgusted with all of them. “I’m just…done.”
“Wren, wait, what happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. For all your charm, you’re equally complicated, and frankly? Exhausting. I’m finished with all of you. Enjoy the parade.”
Before he could stop her, she slipped into the oncoming shuffle of Girl Scouts and crossed the street.
“Wren, wait!” he called, but she kept her head down and kept moving.
She needed to reach somewhere private before tears streamed down her wind-chapped cheeks. Weaving through the crowd, praying others didn’t notice her, she sprinted against the current of dancers and pedestrians until disappearing through a narrow alley beside the Wilde Kettle.
The muffled thrum of the parade echoed in the distance as she caught her breath and wiped her eyes.
Wren pressed her back against the cool brick wall and sank to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tried to hold it together.
The cold seeped through her coat, the rough brick catching strands of her hair, but she barely noticed through the flood of emotion.
Silent. Shaky. Crying in an alley like some tragic heroine, she tried to ground herself. But Soren’s cruel words overwhelmed her, each accusation a dagger to her already wounded heart.
She waited in the alley until the sounds of the parade faded then went to her aunt’s store to find her dad. Bodhi announced he wanted chowder for supper. Knowing the chowder house served as one of Greyson’s regular spots, Wren opted to sit that one out.
“You and Aunt Astrid go. I’m not hungry.”
She minded the store for Astrid until six, then locked up. People were already gathering around Town Square for the fireworks display. Wren didn’t have the strength to sit in a sea of cuddling couples hunkered together under blankets while sharing hot cocoa, so she decided to go home.
She reached her car when the first boom crackled into sparkles above. The oohs and ahhs of onlookers echoed from all corners of Hideaway Harbor. Wren seemed the only one not enchanted by the show, perhaps because she had no one to share it with.
Another burst exploded above like war drums dressed in red and gold glitter. She caught the reflection in her windshield but didn’t look back. The rich aroma of cinnamon and smoke hung heavily in the frigid night air as she rummaged in her tote for her car key.
“Wren.”
Her whole body seized at the sound of Greyson’s voice, her blood freezing. The thought of another Hawthorne confrontation threatened to shatter her completely.
“I don’t want to talk, Greyson.” Her survival instincts broke her out of paralysis, and she pulled the car door shut.
He caught it before it closed. “Just give me two minutes. Please.”
“Leave me alone!” She frantically fished through her bag for her key.
“Wren, please!”
She glared at him. It was a mistake. The fireworks reflected across his face as he searched her eyes. She refused to feel bad for him.
His five o’clock shadow stretched more than twenty-four hours old, proof he hadn’t slept at home.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his hair stuck up at odd angles like he’d been running his hands through it all night.
The evidence of his rough evening should have satisfied her, but instead it only made her sick.
“Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it!”
“Wren, I didn’t mean to stand you up last night.”
She covered her ears. “I said I don’t want to hear it.”
He yanked her hand away. “Tough. You have to.”
“No. I don’t have to do anything. You had your chance. You had a hundred chances. I’m done, Greyson! Done with all of you.”
He recoiled. “You don’t get to throw us away like that.”
“There is no us.”
“You don’t understand.”
When he stepped closer, she shoved him back. “No, you don’t understand. Do you think last night was the first time your disappearing act made me cry? You’ve been doing this to me my whole life.”
“That’s not fair. I wanted to be there—“
“Then why weren’t you?” He was one of the most capable men she knew. “If you truly wanted this, you would have been there.”
“I do want this!”
“It’s my fault.” She batted away a tear. “I pushed you for more than you wanted to offer. You weren’t ready—”
“I’m not fucking scared, Wren. I want to talk about things. I want to talk about us. I’m ready.”
She offered him a sad smile. “No, you’re not. You spent fifteen years filling my head with empty promises, knowing deep down you were never going to truly be there for me.”
He released her car and staggered back. “That’s below the belt.”
“No, it’s dead-on.” She yanked the door shut.
“Wren, please. I know I messed up.”
The urge to hear him out pulled at her like gravity. She’d done it before—forgiven him for ghosting on her, excused him because she knew he struggled to communicate his emotions. But not this time. He was a grown man, and the time had come for him to understand his actions had consequences.
“I’m all out of second chances, Greyson.” She kept her eyes forward as she pulled away.
In her rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of him standing alone under the streetlight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as another burst of fireworks painted the sky in shades of gold. For a moment, his expression looked almost desperate—but she forced herself to look away.
This time, she wouldn’t turn back.