Page 133 of California Wild

She laughed. A short, bitter sound. “Yeah? And I’m just supposed to believe that? After everything? After what you did to me back then?”

Silence.

Dead, suffocating silence.

The kind that made you want to rip your own skin off just to feel something.

She turned on her heel before he could answer. Before he could lie. Or worse—say nothing at all.

She stormed out of the kitchen, her vision swimming, her hands clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms.

Fuck him.

Fuck this.

If she stayed another second, she was going to cry.

And she refused—refused—to let Jesse Navarro see her cry again. Not after everything.

Not now.

Not when she was pregnant.

Not when she had so much more to lose than just him.

In the bedroom, Hayley yanked open her overnight bag with shaking hands.

She didn’t care what she grabbed—didn’t matter. She just needed to move, needed to do something before the feeling swallowed her whole.

The feeling of being so fucking stupid.

Twenty-four hours. That’s all it took.

Twenty-four hours of pretending this was something real. Of letting herself believe that maybe—maybe—he had changed. That she could trust him.

But here she was again. Zipping a bag with trembling fingers, her throat tight, her heart trying to convince her it was fine even as it cracked wide open.

She tugged the zipper closed and slung the bag over her shoulder with more force than necessary, jaw clenched.

And then—she felt it.

The shift. The weight of him behind her.

Jesse stood in the doorway, silent. Watching.

The air thickened between them, charged, crackling with things they’d never said.

She didn’t turn.

Didn’t trust herself to look at him. Not without losing the anger that was the only thing holding her together.

“Say something,” she said, her voice hoarse, nearly breaking. “Fucking say something, Jesse.”

He exhaled. That was it. A slow, pained breath.

But no words.

Of course not.

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