Page 83 of The Two Halves of My Heart

“Don’t you dare question my love for you.” He stabbed his finger at me while gritting out the words. “Everything I’ve done is for you or for us, and nothing about that has changed.”

“But don’t you see how toxic that’s become? You and the fighting, it’s put us both in danger. I hate it, Mads, and I hate who you turn into when you’re in that ring. That world has changed you. You just can’t see it.” I pleaded with him and reached for his hands.

“Well, excuse me for doing what I need to survive.” He pulled his hands away.

“You had a job. We had a life. It didn’t need to change. You had nothing to prove to me.”

“No, but I had plenty to prove to myself. This isn’t just about you, Grace. And if you can’t see that, then it’s you that has the problem, not me.” He sat on his bed and rested his arms on his legs.

“Where have you been all these weeks? It’s like you vanished.” I lingered at the edge of his room.

“About. Leo’s. Training. I didn’t think you wanted to see me.” His voice was hoarse and caught in his throat. I closed my eyes to the sound because it pushed everything inside of me to go and comfort him. Like this—scared and broken—it was impossible to imagine the angry victor, God of the ring that he turned into when he was fighting.

“Did you not get any of my messages?”

“I saw you’d taken Bob. That’s the only message I needed. You left. And you have no intention of coming back. Sorry if I’ve been trying for self-preservation here.”

“What did you expect? Do you know how much it hurt, first watching you, and then what you said to me afterwards? That’s not love, Mads. And I won’t stay to watch you self-destruct.”

“You don’t know that’s what will happen.”

“I do. My mother went through the same thing with my father, and I won’t do the same.”

“Your mother?” He lifted his head. His eyes were drawn down in a frown. “What’s she got to do with us?”

“She left my father to move here. He got in too deep with the wrong people. She had to escape because his world threatened both her and me.” I kept my distance, refusing to step closer to him, no matter how much I felt the pull to comfort him.

“That would never happen to you and me.” He stood, the anger creeping into his voice again.

“Really?”

“Yeah. At least now I know where this is coming from. I thought Oliver had been whispering in your ear as soon as he got back. I guess I was wrong for the first time.”

“Oliver?” Oliver was back?

“Yeah. Came back a few weeks ago. Took us by surprise, but I guess it was overdue. From the look on your face though, he didn’t bother to say hi?”

“No.” Another bruise forms on what’s left of my heart.

“He listened then. But I don’t want to talk about him. I want to hear what you came here to say.” The sharp tone challenged me like he didn’t believe I had it in me to say the words. Like so often with Maddison, he was pushing me into a fight, backing me into a corner with no way out.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“No, that’s not it. Try again.”

“We’re over, Maddison. I can’t be with you like this.”

“There it is.” He turned away from me, and I knew he was in pain. We both were.

“You know, I’ve loved you forever. For most girls, that would be enough, or at least that’s what they’ve led me to believe. But you, Grace? No. You had both my love and Oliver’s, and still, that wasn’t enough. When you figure out what you’ll be satisfied with, let me know.”

“Mads, please. Don’t say things like that. I know you don’t mean that.” He pushed past me and headed for the stairs, while I was left with tears falling to my cheeks in waves.

“Too late. You had me. You didn’t want me. Now you have to live with that.”

The door slammed on his way out, followed by the rumble of his engine. I dashed to his window and watched as he tore off around the corner.

It was like he was two people right now: the boy who’d won my heart and made me brave, and the man who’d held my heart hostage until everything good between us had withered.

I dragged myself back to my room to say goodbye. It might have been just four walls, but it was the start of something so vital for me. And the loss of that hope was as much a source of pain as Maddison’s words were.

The last boxes fit snuggly in the car, and I gave one more look at the house. A bed and a few pieces of furniture weren’t worth coming back for. There was nothing left here that I wanted to bring home with me. The important items were the happy memories, although they seemed to be buried under spiteful words and fury right now.

I remembered to post my key through the letterbox—my last job.

I wouldn’t need it again.

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