Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Maverick
I never begged.
I never chased.
I never let anyone have the power to break me.
But Solenn had.
She had walked out of my life like I was nothing, like what we had meant nothing, and it had ripped me apart in ways I wasn’t prepared for. I had spent all day trying to fix the damage, trying to set fire to the people who caused this mess—but none of it mattered if she wasn’t here.
None of it mattered if she wasn’t mine.
The house in front of me was smaller than I had expected.
It looked warm, lived in, the kind of place where people laughed around dinner tables, where childhood memories weren’t tainted by ambition or greed.
It was so different from my world, so different from the hollow, empty luxury I had grown up in.
And she was in there.
Probably thinking she had made the right choice. Probably thinking I was exactly the man everyone warned her about.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I stood outside my car, staring at the front door. My heart was steady, my mind sharp, but something unfamiliar and unbearable was clawing at my chest. I had never wanted something this much. Never been so desperate to be let in.
I didn’t hesitate anymore. I walked up the short pathway, my dress shoes crunching against gravel, and raised my fist.
I knocked.
The sound was sharp, echoing through the quiet street. A long silence followed, stretching too thin, suffocating. I heard the faint hum of voices inside, the rustle of movement, and then—the sound of footsteps approaching.
The door swung open.
And before I could register anything, a fist slammed into my jaw.
Pain exploded across my face, white-hot and immediate, as my head snapped to the side. My teeth clamped together, the sharp metallic taste of blood coating my tongue.
I had taken worse hits.
But never from someone I didn’t even know.
I exhaled slowly, rolling my jaw before straightening. My eyes locked on the man standing in the doorway, his stance tense, his fists still clenched like he was ready to throw another punch.
"You deserve that," he muttered, shaking out his knuckles.
I didn’t move. Didn’t react. Didn’t even wipe the blood from my lip as I slowly turned my head back, meeting his glare with calm determination.
"I know," I said evenly. "Now let me see her."
The man didn’t budge. He was younger than me—mid-twenties, maybe. A few inches shorter, but built like he could throw his weight around. His expression was a mixture of anger and something else. Protectiveness.
Before I could say anything else, another figure stepped into view behind him. A woman, sharp-eyed and unimpressed, crossed her arms over her chest as she assessed me. "Who the hell are you?"
I clenched my jaw. "I’m here for Solenn."
The woman let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, no shit. And I’m guessing you’re the reason she came home looking like someone ran over her soul."
My stomach tightened.
I exhaled slowly. "I need to talk to her."
The man at the door—her brother?—let out a sharp scoff. "That’s not happening."
My entire body tensed. "I need to explain."
"You don’t need to do shit," he shot back. "She doesn’t want to see you."
I felt something deep in my chest crack, something raw and unbearable, but I forced my voice to stay even. "Let her tell me that."
A new voice cut through the tense air. "She already did."
I turned my head, my breath catching.
Another woman stood further inside, watching me with the same sharp, assessing gaze as the others. But there was something quieter in her eyes. Something softer.
Her mother.
She stepped forward, her expression unreadable. "I don’t know what you did to my daughter, but I know this—I’ve never seen her like this." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "She’s hurting. And she came home because she knew we’d keep her safe."
I swallowed, my throat tight. "I need to talk to her," I said again, but this time my voice wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t cold. It was something else. Something I didn’t even know how to name.
The woman studied me for a long moment before shaking her head. "Go home, Mr. Spencer."
I should have.
I should have walked away.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I stepped back and sank to my knees.
A sharp intake of breath. A murmur of confusion from inside. The sound of the woman beside her brother shifting uncomfortably.
But I didn’t care.
I let the cold seep into my skin, let the gravel dig into my knees, let the weight of this moment settle in my bones. I had never done something like this. Never let myself lose like this. But she was worth it.
And if this was what it took to prove it, then I’d stay here all damn night.
"I’m not leaving," I said, my voice steady, certain. "Not until she talks to me."
A tense silence followed.
Then, almost like the universe itself had decided to humiliate me further—it started to rain.
A soft drizzle at first, then heavier, each drop cold and sharp against my skin. It soaked through my shirt, my hair, my clothes, but I didn’t move.
"Jesus," the woman muttered. "He’s insane."
"Good," her brother said flatly. "Let him sit in the rain and think about his life choices."
Her mother exhaled. "He’s not coming inside."
I didn’t look up. I didn’t say a word.
I just stayed there.
Kneeling. Waiting.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow shift behind the window upstairs. A faint movement, barely noticeable. But I felt it.
Solenn.
Watching.
She didn’t open the door.
Didn’t run into my arms.
But she was there.
And that meant she hadn’t completely given up on me yet.
So I stayed.
Even as the rain poured harder. Even as my muscles ached. Even as the cold seeped into my bones.
Because if she wouldn’t let me inside, then I’d stay outside.
For as long as it took.