She was the hypocritical liar. She lied about her self-harm. She lied about her infertility.

“You decided within one night to not have kids of your own,” she said. “You need time to think about all this. Away from me. Let me give you that space to make this decision. That’s the only fair thing to do.” Even though Carson desperately wanted to reach out and hold him, she balled her hands into fists and locked them at her side.

The sharp angle of Jax’s stiff shoulders rounded out, loosening. Another cloud draped over the sun. After a moment, he huffed. “If that’s what you want.”

Then, with one last look, Jax turned on his heel and marched into his home, his luggage and Carson left behind.

Through splintered breaths Carson drove home in a haze of distress. As soon as she reached the safety of her kitchen she crumpled to the ground, sobs ripping up her throat. She wanted to make herself as small as possible.

Jax had given Carson his heart. Trusted her to keep it safe and take care of it. Instead, she’d torn it to shreds and offered it back to him like a sick joke.

The hate she felt toward herself was indescribable. How could she have let their relationship get this far? If she had just listened to herself in the first place, he would have never gotten hurt. She should have fought harder to keep him away from her, to keep him safe.

“I had to do it. I had to do it,” she kept muttering to herself.

Anger and misery shook Carson’s body, her house, her whole world. Maybe it would shake so hard that it would collapse on top of her and bury her forever underneath the rubble. Maybe then she wouldn’t hurt another person she loved.

When she had created life within herself, she had destroyed it. Then she’d created love between her and Jax with the same result.

She was a creator and a destroyer.

For hours, Carson lay in a heap on the cool hardwood floor. Her tears finally dried, and she could no longer smell the dusty wood. A sunbeam broke through the window and smacked her on the cheek. Squinting, she jerked away from its light, rolling into a sitting position, and peered up into the kitchen. It was her kitchen, but it looked unfamiliar to her.

On top of the counter was the knife block staring back at her. The perfectly sharp edges sitting inside the wood beckoned her forward.

Attraction.

Allured by its call, Carson rose.

One week later . . .

Chapter twenty-four

Click. Click. Pause. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Carson’s fingers flew across the keyboard, her strategy for the upcoming child custody trial flowing out of her. She couldn’t type fast enough to keep up with her thoughts.

Funnily enough, the breakthrough she needed to lock in her case had come to her in a dream. She’d been sitting next to Luke on their sofa with their baby fast asleep in her arms. Arms that were clear of any scars. In her dream, all she could focus on was the couch. It was so cozy and soft. Even thoughPsychflashed on the television, she wasn’t laughing because the couch was everything.

A grin spread across Carson’s face as she saved her document and sent it to the printer. Work done, she was ready to head home for the weekend. Maybe she would celebrate with a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Now that she had thought of it, she was definitely going to indulge. She deserved it.

The paper was hot, freshly printed. She let it warm her fingers before it cooled. The crunch of the three-hole punch was harmonic, before she inserted her work into a notebook.

“I was thinking.”

Spinning, Carson found Garrett relaxing his tall body against the workroom wall. “I don’t know if it’s because it’s the new year, or if I’m still in the Christmas-giving spirit, but I have a proposal.”

Confused because she had no clue what he was talking about, Carson set her notebook on the countertop and asked, “What’s your proposal?”

“Instead of jumping headfirst into a partnership, what are your thoughts on a mentorship? I’d be your mentor for six months. Once that is complete, we can start the process of promoting you to junior partner.”

Carson matched his smile, which was almost blinding against his dark skin.

“I think that is a very reasonable proposal,” she said, struggling to keep her tone even and professional. “I accept.”

Untucking his hands from his suit pant pockets, Garrett pushed off the wall. “We start on Monday.”

A red diesel truck was parked in Carson’s driveway as she circled to the back of her house, the cold rocks turning under her tires. The headlights of her vehicle swept across someone leaning against the bed of the truck. The butterflies in Carson’s stomach, dormant over the past week, perked up when she recognized it was Jax.