Page 268 of The Grand Duel

I should get up and help her.

I should get up and do something.

But I’m glued to my seat, the conversation quietly fading around me as a new reality settles on my chest.

My eyes burn, my heart…my fucking heart.

I turn my head an inch, side-eyeing Mason.

His face is hard—grim.

Because he knows.

Maybe they all know.

“Coats on, fuckers.” He stands. “Night’s done.”

My friends file out of my home, their reserved chatter haunting—nothing like them.

I walk from the dining room and up the stairs to the main bedroom.

I ease the door open and let my eyes fall on her. She’s pacing the room but stops when she sees me, her hand lifting to cover her mouth, her other held out. “Sorry.”

I shake my head as her tears spill over, everything inside of me throbbing at the sight of her. At the sight of her anguish.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs.

Three strides, and she’s in my arms, her body slumping.

I close my eyes as her shoulders shake, knowing her heart is breaking at my hands, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, her cries only worsening. “I tried—I’m trying so hard.”

“Baby, no.” I screw my face up, the flash of anger that flares through my chest meant for me and me alone. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I tell her. “You’re everything to me, Lissie. Everything.” Tears fall from my own eyes. “You’ve done nothing wrong, baby.”

I hold her. I hold on to her for hours on our bedroom floor, telling her over and over again how much she means to me, how much I love her, how none of this is on her.

When she falls asleep in my arms, her body finally free of her sobbing, I carry her to our bed and lay her in it. I pull the covers up over her and lean in to gently kiss her forehead.

And then I pack my bags, and I leave.

Lissie,

My beautiful, stubborn, girl.

There are few things I never thought I’d do in my life. Moving out of my penthouse was always one of them. Not needing the club was another. And falling in love? Simply unimaginable.

But then I met you.

It’s crazy to me that you not only came into my life in the way that you did, but that you chose to stay.

The few things I never thought I’d do in my life changed when I met you, Lis, and yet here I am, doing those very things, too, as I walk away from you.

I don’t want to leave, but I know that deep down, past the very defiance I love, you know it’s the right thing, too. Not because we don’t belong together—nothing could convince me of that. But because there is no want or need loud enough inside of me to ever warrant ignoring the pain I’m knowingly putting you through.

I love you. More than you’ll ever know. And I will come home.

I’ll always come home to you, baby.