Page 96 of Yes No Maybe

“You first. Why are you selling? You love this house.”

She takes a breath, seeming to center herself. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Be angry at me. Fine. But don’t make a bad decision because you’re pissed. Selling before you’ve built any equity means losing every penny you’ve sunk into it and taking a huge tax hit.”

A sardonic laugh escapes her. “Are you mansplaining my finances to me? I know exactly what this will cost me, asshole.”

“Then, why do that to yourself?”

“To get away from you!”

That hurts. My jaw hangs in stunned limbo while my brow contorts into a thousand devastated creases. “Um, that’s a shit reason to move. I’m sorry for what I did. It was a dick move, and yes, fucking selfish. But you went to him, Rowan, like he never left, like nothing between us mattered. I’ve never been in love before. Aren’t I allowed one fuck-up? You gave Dean a thousand chances—”

“Yes, but I shouldn’t have!” She dares to meet my eyes and brings her voice down to a soft, desperate plea. “Staying here terrifies me. I could never be enough for you, not for long. I can’t be the woman next door to your… to what would happen when we fall apart.”

“When? How can you have so little faith in me?”

“Easy. You had zero faith in me. All you had to do was wait and trust me. I was seconds from breaking up with him when he got that damn phone call. How couldyoutry to control me like that after everything I told you?”

“You walking off with the wrong guy, getting into bed with him—how could I donothing?”

“I didn’t get in bed with him. You hurt and humiliated me to prove your point. You wanted Dean to choose a part over me, and he did. Do you have any idea how shitty that feels?”

“No shittier than him ghosting you all summer. He could’ve said no. After what you said about not wanting to hurt or lose him… I got worried, okay? I’m sorry.”

My pleading apology stirs an exasperated sigh. She motions to the sign on my lawn. “And what’s this, huh? Another manipulation? Is pretending to sell your house supposed to make me feel better?”

“I’m not pretending. Ask Jane. We’re looking at properties in Landfall tomorrow, and she’s already booked three showings.”

Her arms fold. “Why are you doing this?”

“So you don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to leave the place you love because of me. If one of us has to go, I want it to be me.”

She softens instantly, but watches my expression like she’s hunting for insincerity.

But I mean every word. “I’ve priced it under market. My place is all upgrades and fun times—it’ll sell fast. When I have a signed contract in hand, you’ll know I’m not kidding and trust me enough to take your sign down.”

Her head tilts, and a tear escapes. She wipes it away quickly as if embarrassed. “But you can’t move, Jack. What about the neighbors? What about Devin?”

“Devin’s with me wherever I go. As for the neighbors, I’ll bus them to Landfall once a week. They’ll love it.”

She shakes her head. “No, I can’t let you do that. Please, take your sign down.”

“The only way my sign comes down is if you want us to be neighbors again. Otherwise, I’m leaving as soon as possible to save you from doing it. I’m Sydney Carton.”

A spurting laugh breaks through her quiet tears. “You’re no Sydney Carton.”

“Course, I am. I’m sacrificing myself for the woman I love—Dickens couldn’t write this scene any better.”

She laughs again, music to my ears. “This is hardlyA Tale of Two Cities.”

“It’sA Tale of Two Neighbors.”

More laughs. “Sydney Carton would nevertellLucie his plan to sacrifice himself—he’d just do it. Stop trying to seduce me with books.”

“Do you have a better idea of how I might seduce you?” My eyes circle her face, stopping at her lips. Damn, I want to kiss her. And the way she looks at me, I suspect she entertains the idea. Her arms fall to her sides, and her cheeks flush pink. Leaning closer, I trace her hairline with the tip of my finger before tucking a wayward lock behind her ear. “I fucking adore you, Rowan… forgive me. Please.”

A struggle ensues behind her eyes. Her trust has taken a double hit between me and Dean, and lumping me into her overfull memory bank of shit-boyfriends probably seems like the safest plan. Moving, too. If she stays and we’re not together, it’ll be awful for us both. When another tear slips, I brush it away with my thumb.

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