Page 154 of Three Reckless Words

“Winnie, I didn’t do whatever you’re accusing me of,” he says.

I laugh, high-pitched and scornful.

There’s a chance I might be losing it, but I don’t care.

“Save yourself the gaslighting, Holden. I know it was you. And FYI, there’snothingyou could do to ever convince me to marry you again. I told you, we’re done. You were a rotten boyfriend and you would’ve been the worst husband.”

“Like you were perfect?” he snarls, then hesitates, like he remembers he’s supposed to be winning me over. “Look, no one’s perfect, not all the time, but—”

“All the time? You want to know what it was like dating you? It felt like looking across the table and seeing my father. Cold, indifferent, obsessed with his image and his next career move. You never loved me.”

“That’s… that’s not true,” he sputters.

“Isn’t it? You put your career first, second, and third.” It feels good to get this out while he’s struck speechless.

Cathartic in a way.

I’ve never said any of this to his face, and he deserves to hear it.

I want him to know how shitty he was, even if the memories make my throat tight.

“You’re remembering things wrong,” he whispers, back to his practiced tone, numb with the endless patience.

“And you’re patronizing as hell,” I snap. “You’re belittling, you’re childish, you’re selfish. Worst of all, you’re a coward,Holden, lashing out like a kid when you don’t get your way. You neveroncemade me feel special, you know. Youneverput me first. And looking at you, I could see my future… I’d wind up just like my mother. No thanks.”

“Your mom is—”

“Miserable.” I’m full-on crying now, yes, and it’s gross. All snot and tears and those heaving panicked breaths I can’t control. My body doesn’t know what it’s doing today. “My mom is miserable and lonely and a pushover. That’s not me, Holden. Go find yourself another doormat.”

“Doormat? Hold up—”

“No. Why don’t you justadmitit?” I practically scream. “The only thing you care about is your fucking career. I embarrassed you and you want to make me pay. You don’t even want me back at all. Say it.”

Holden yells something through the phone, unintelligible and garbled, and the phone flies out of my hand.

I don’t know what happened until I look up.

I never saw Archer approach, but he’s here now, a stone expression on his face that’s ready for murder.

If Holden was here, there would be blood on the ground, I’m pretty sure. And I’m not sure I’d mind seeing it.

“You’re blocked, asshole,” Archer says. He has no right sounding so menacing when I was—and still am—falling apart. “You’re not breathing another word to Winnie. Not today. Not fucking ever.”

More incoherent buzz from the speaker.

Holden hates it when people talk down to him, and Archer is so clearly the dominant man in this situation. Holden will hate that even more.

Serves you right, I think viciously.

“If you ever show up on any property I own again, I will hunt you down. Pressing charges will be the easy part,” Archer growls,pausing. “You’ll get them in spades, then I will turn your fucking skull into honeycomb. Understand me?”

This time, I catch the gist of what Holden says. “You’re threatening a senator’s son? Are you stupid?”

Archer snorts.

“I don’t give a shit what you are.” He hangs up, following through with the block setting in my contacts.

It’s a load off my mind, knowing Holden can’t contact me again unless he comes here.

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