Chapter 5
Grace
Grace lay curled against Luke’s side, his arm heavy and warm around her waist. He smelled like soap and heat and clean sweat. She wanted to stay in this moment forever, tucked into him, safe in the quiet aftershocks of what they’d just shared.
Courage fluttered inside her like a trapped bird.
She lifted her head from his shoulder. “Luke?”
The room was dim, the only light the soft glow from her bedside lamp. He hummed, low in his chest. Comfortable. Relaxed.
Fortune favors the bold and Grace was about to be bold. "I want to take you on a date."
His breath paused, his body going still beneath her hand.
"Nothing fancy. Just—" She traced a fingertip along his ribcage. “The fall festival is coming up. We’re both going anyway. We could just… go together.”
Luke shifted, pulling his arm from under her, just enough that her cheek no longer rested on him. Enough that cold air rushed into the space where warmth had been.
“Grace,” he said, and her stomach dropped at the tone. “You know we can’t do that.”
She forced a smile anyway. “I know we both have jobs, and schedules, and—”
Luke sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. “People talk. They’d never let it go if they saw me—” He hesitated, searching for a way of explaining to her that wouldn’t cut like a knife. He failed. “With a Hart.”
She felt like her chest had been cracked out and something vital had been scooped out of her. “Oh.”
Something hot and sharp lodged behind her ribs. She pressed a hand to her sternum, like she could hold herself together from the outside.
It didn’t matter how good she was. The name would always come first.
“I know you’re not like your family.” He said it earnestly, like that made it any better. “But the name matters. Your family’s history, the things they’ve done… it reflects on people. On me.”
She sat up, pulling the sheet with her. Something inside her curled inward, small and embarrassed.
Luke kept going. “We’ve got a good thing here. Fun. You don’t want the hassle that comes with making this public. Trust me.”
“Fun,” she repeated softly. The warmth she’d felt lying in his arms dissipated, leaving her skin tight and cold.
He reached out, putting his hand on her arm. It felt wrong that he could still touch her. He’d already decided she wasn’t worth being seen with. “It’s not like this is serious. Why make it complicated?”
If she cried now, she’d never forgive herself. She would not beg. She would not explain. She would not make herself smaller to be tolerated.
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “You’re right.” Her voice didn’t even shake. She was proud of that. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Relief washed over his face and he exhaled. “I knew you’d get it.”
There was a steady ache settling deep in her bones but Grace kept smiling.
It felt like holding broken glass between her teeth.
He stood, pulling his shirt over his head. “I should get going. Early shift.”
Grace nodded, careful and slow. “Right.”
She inhaled. Held it. Let it go.
Then she did the bravest, hardest thing she’d ever done.
“I want to end this,” she said softly. “Our arrangement.”
Luke froze, one leg into his trousers.
“You… want to end it?” He sounded…shocked.
Grace nodded, eyes on a safe spot on the wall. “Yeah. It’s been good. Really good. But it’s time for us both to move on.”
When Luke didn’t say anything, she couldn’t help but look at him.
He didn’t look heartbroken. He just looked irritated. Mildly perturbed. “Move on?” he repeated. He yanked his trousers up, movements sharp.
“Yeah.” Her shrug was loose, casual, utterly fake. “I just think it’s time.”
Luke stared at her like she was speaking a language he suddenly didn’t understand.
“Because of the date stuff?” His voice was clipped. “You said you got it.”
She kept her smile in place. It felt like it had been nailed there. “I do get it. And that’s why this makes sense.”
His jaw clenched.
“Look,” he said. “If you’re upset, you can—I don’t know—take a few days and think it through. You don’t have to rush into ending things.”
Grace watched him button his shirt, each button a wall going up between them. “I don’t need time to think about anything,” she said. “It’s the right call.”
Luke ran a hand through his hair. He looked… rattled now.
“Grace,” he said, his voice was rough. “C’mon. Don’t be like this.” He exhaled hard, rubbing both hands over his face. “I thought you were smarter than this. I didn’t think you’d… make this sort of fuss.”
The fucking nerve of this man. Heat flooded her face. Humiliation, thick and choking. He was the one who said it wasn’t anything serious and now he was acting like she needed to give this decision more consideration.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe. But she kept her smiled fixed in place anyway—he wouldn’t see her cry. “This just isn’t enough for me anymore.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “I know you were satisfied. You weren’t faking that.”
The words were unexpected. They were humiliating, intimate in a way she hadn’t expected from him.
He kept going.
“I know you enjoyed yourself. Tonight. Every time.”
She felt stripped. Exposed. Something special weaponized into something ugly. Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t look away. “Things change,” she said woodenly.