Page 114 of Never Started
"I'm so disappointed you don't know my heart well enough to already know this about me," I say, my words choppy as emotion overtakes me. "What matters and has always mattered to me is that at the end of the day, you know you can come to me with anything. Tell me anything, and trust that I’ll stand by your side, just like I trust you to do the same.Thatis the kind of trust I need, and I thought we had, but now I'm not so sure."
"Mav, I—"
"Don't. Please don't speak. Not right now. I need time to think." I release her face and step back. She does as I ask and doesn't speak; she only nods softly. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be waiting.”
I turn back toward my truck, hopping in and pulling out.
I need to clear my head.
Their kiss, I could have easily gotten past. It's the lies, the not knowing, the keeping things from me that hurts.
When it comes to her, I know damn well things will never be easy. And easy isn’t what I signed up for. But damnit, did I really want something this difficult? It’s like a constant game of push and pull, and I don’t know if I have the fight left in me.
Love is tricky. It's like jumping off a cliff; you can choose to enjoy the free fall or let the lack of control make you panic. When it comes to Izzy, enjoying the free fall has always been my choice. But, the thing is… I don’t know what waits for me at the bottom.
Chapter fifty-eight
Izzy
November 2025
As Maverick’s truck pulls out of the gravel driveway, I’m left standing in the dust. How ironic; left in the dust, just as I deserve.
Maverick is right. He’s accepted me for who and how I am, never expecting or pressuring me for more than I’m willing to give. He would have done his best to understand had I been honest.
Instead, I did what I do best and hid away the truth.
Running a hand through my hair and wiping away the damn tears that keep falling, I turn around and walk back toward the main house. With each step, I force myself to take a deep breath.
I should have been honest with him from the start.
As my right foot meets the bottom step, the front door swings open, and Jett marches out, frustration evident on his face.
He rushes to me, but I want nothing to do with the comfort anyone has to offer right now. I created this chaos. I don’tdeserve anyone’s sympathy. Especially his. I’ve hurt him just as I’ve hurt Maverick.
“Are you okay?” Jett’s voice is quiet and sympathetic as he looks me over, keeping a safe distance between us.
“‘I’m not okay,” I scoff. “I need a fucking drink.” Pushing past him, I walk inside the house without caring if he follows me or not.
Going through the main living area, I glimpse Via, still celebrating, and our eyes meet briefly. Her face shifts into apparent concern as she catches sight of me. I must look like a disheveled mess.
Great.
As if I haven’t caused enough damage, I can’t take away from her moment. I flash her a smile as I continue walking toward the kitchen. Thankfully, she’s caught up in a joyous conversation with Abbie and doesn’t get a chance to follow me.
Walking into the kitchen, I open the liquor cabinet and grab the whiskey and a glass. I pour myself a hefty amount and shoot it back without hesitation. Loving the sting as it courses down my throat, I do it again. And again. And again. The minutes pass by as I stand there hunched over the counter.
I want to be numb. I don’t want to feel the self-hatred, the disgust, and the utter sadness that my choices have caused.
“That’s enough.” Jett’s voice pierces through the kitchen's silence. He grabs the bottle of whiskey off the counter and pours the little that remains directly down the drain.
“What the fuck, Jett?” I demand, swinging around to face him and shoving at his chest. He stands firm and doesn’t budge an inch.Solid asshole.
“You’re not gonna drown your problems away. You need to face them,” he says softly as he sweeps my hair off my shoulder and attempts to pull me into a hug—a hug that I deny.
I scoff, pulling out of his grasp. “Face my problems? Isn’t that what I’m fucking doing?” I ask through gritted teeth, my head starting to feel lighter.
“Fuck no, that’s not what you’re doing. You’re trying to escape them, and you damn well know it.”
