Page 137 of Heartache Duet

His spine straightens.

“You can’t be going around risking your life for me.”

He sighs. “It was just a paintball—”

“But you didn’t know that, did you?”

His lips press tight.

“Jesus, Connor! What were you thinking?”

With a slow head shake, his jaw clenches when he says, “I was thinking that I need to protect the person I love!”

My breath catches at his words, but guilt controls all of mine. “You can’t do that! We’re not…” I press a hand to my chest, settle the pounding beneath it. “We need to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Skirting these lines. We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep sending you mixed messages. Shit, you could’ve—”

“Ava,” he sighs out.

“We need a clean break,” I declare. Tears prick behind my eyes, and I blink them away, stand firm. “No more texting. No more talking. No more anything!”

His chest heaves with his breaths, and I can see the weight of his conflict bearing down on his shoulders. I lift my chin, determined.

Connor licks his lips, his gaze falling. “Is that what you want?”

No, it’s what you need.

He needs me out of his life.

For good.

“Yes.”

Nodding, he leans against the open doorframe. “Karen asked me to go to winter formal with her.”

I die on the inside.

On the outside, I stand my ground. “So go.”

He heaves out a breath. And then his eyes meet mine, clouded, as if his heartache has shattered all hope.

I look away.

Right before he closes the door on us.

SIX

ava

Baby monitor attached to the pocket of my sweatpants, I hold the ladder for Trevor while he searches the garage for the Christmas lights. We haven’t used them since we moved here, but Trevor’s on this kick, influenced by Amy, that we celebrate the holidays just like any other family.

“I’m sure we packed them in clear containers,” I tell him.

“No, I packed them in garbage bags.”

“No, I’m the one who packed them. I think I’d know.”

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