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I shot my hand out and barged inside, shaking off the sympathy. “Finally,” I mumbled.

Reed idled in the threshold, one hand curled around the door frame, the other planted on the wall as he hunched forward, his back to me. “What,” was all he said.

What.

What?

My chest heaved as the anger funneled back in crimson waves. “I have plenty of whats,” I hissed. “What was that? What the hell were you trying to accomplish with that ridiculous charade? What made you think more lies and deceit would fix this? What?—”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Whirling around, he shut the door and collapsed against it, his head slamming to wood, eyes falling closed. “You need to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes fluttered back open. “Yes, you are. You’re going to the east coast with Scotty.”

My jaw dropped, all my words chopped to bits. Only a humorless bark of laughter slipped through. “No, I’m not.”

Reed’s face remained expressionless, as if all the passion he was trying to conjure up had fizzled out in the aftermath of a soul-sucking defeat. “I think it’s for the best. You wanted to travel, see the world. You deserve that.”

“You don’t get to decide what I deserve. And you certainly don’t get to rip the rug out from under me, then roll me up in it and toss me off the nearest cliff.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m being dramatic?” I gawked at him, my head rearing back. “A few hours ago, you delivered a show-stopping performance that brought everybody to their knees. It was Oscar-worthy. Truly.”

A glare was his response, but it wasn’t hateful, wasn’t angry.

It was just…detached.

Painfully distant.

I took a step forward, trying my hardest to spin my fury into conviction. “Reed, please. We need to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s done.”

“It’s not done. It’s only beginning. And maybe if you had tried to convince Tara that what we had was real, we’d have an actual beginning to work with.” Tears welled, despite my yearning for strength. “What were you thinking?”

Finally, something other than apathy shimmered in his eyes. Reed pulled up from the door and hovered in front of me, his brows creasing with pain. “I was thinking about you, Halley,” he said. “Something I should have thought about from day one. Yes, I twisted the truth, but not everything was a lie. I was weak. I was selfish. And now I have to suffer the consequences of those actions.”

“Reed…” I stepped toward him, closer, melting the icy gap between us. “Love is weak. Love is selfish. It’s not this fairy-tale illusion of candy hearts and paper flowers. It’s messy and painful. But it’s always worth it.”

He dropped his eyes. “You keeping saying that word.”

“What word?”

“Love.” He spit it out like he’d chewed it up first.

I blinked at him, tears still threatening. “Well, do you?”

A long sigh commandeered the mountain between us, and Reed fisted his hair with both hands as he moved around me, into the living room. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Halley.”

“The truth.”

“That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s not,” I whispered.

Pacing the room, back and forth, forward and back, he shook his head. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to say that will make this better.”