Page 37 of Into the Fire
And now this, with Levi…what the hell. She didn’t know what stung more—the words, the coldness in his tone, or the fact that he couldn’t even look at her when he told her to take the week off. A few days ago, he was kissing her senseless and now pushing her away.
She curled her arms tighter around her knees.
Maybe the women at the store were right, she didn’t belong here—didn’t know these people, didn’t understand how to blend in.
Maybe Levi never really wanted her here at all.
Maybe she was just another easy thing in a hard season. A temporary distraction that he regretted the second things got real.
Her throat burned with the weight of it.
Behind her, the porch creaked again, this time quieter, less storm, more hesitation.
13
Levi stepped out to join Emery, now barefoot, his damp hair slightly flipping out at the ends. His jaw was tight, but not like before. This time, it looked like regret.
He stood behind her for a second, then slowly lowered himself to the step beside her. A few inches apart. Not touching.
“I checked on June,” he said quietly.
Emery kept her eyes on the gravel drive, her voice barely audible. “How is she?”
“Mad,” he said with a dry, humorless huff. “Refused to go back to sleep unless I promised you would still be here in the morning. She cried. Said she didn’t want you to go.”
That cracked something open in her.
His voice cracked a little. “And then she asked if I made you sad.” He ran a hand over his face. “And shitty part is... she’s right.”
He finally looked at her. And for the first time all day, the storm was gone from his eyes. Just guilt. Just the truth.
“I was out of line. Hell, I wasn’t just out of line—I was an asshole. I came home pissed and tired and already feeling like a failure, and instead of handling it like a man, I took it out on you— the one person who goes out of your way to make my life easier and actually gives a damn.”
Silence settled between them.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he added, his voice now raw. “I don’t want you to leave, Emery. I want... God, I want you closer. And I’ve done a piss-poor job of showing youthat.”
Emery swallowed, eyes still stinging. “Then why did you say all that?”
“Because I’m an idiot. I'm scared, I guess,” he admitted, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Because this thing between us—it’s real. And real feels dangerous when it's only ever led to hurt in the past, and everything else in my life is up in the air. But that’s not your burden to carry. You’ve done nothing but show up and take care of my messes and my girl, and I treated you like shit. I’m a damn fool who thought pushing you away would hurt less than letting you in.”
“I’m sorry,” Levi said again, quieter now. “I’m sorry for the way I talked to you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner about this, and I’m sorry if I made you doubt even for a second that you belong here—because Emery…” He turned to face her fully. “You do.”
She studied him for a moment, the way his shoulders slumped with the weight of his apology. The way his voice broke just enough to mean it.
Then, finally, she exhaled.
“I’m still mad.”
“You should be.”
“But I don’t want to leave, either,” she added.
Their eyes locked, the quiet stretching into something softer. Forgiveness started to settle, still tense, but real.
Levi reached over slowly, tentatively, and let his pinky graze the back of her hand where it rested on the porch.
She didn’t pull away.
