Page 20 of Til Divorce Do Us Start

But this?

Letting someone else hold my peace, my calm, my heart in their hands? It’s almost unbearable.

Noelle’s so worried aboutmewalking away, she doesn’t even realizeshecould.

She could pack up and leave tomorrow. Cut the cord, call this whole thing a bad joke or some twisted revenge. She couldstay just long enough to feel comfortable—then realize, years from now, that she doesn’t want me. Doesn’t wantanythingI offer. And by then, I’ll be in too deep. Already gone for her. Already ruined.

Wanting her—relying on her—is like walking a tightrope with no net below. Every step feels like a risk, every glance a test of balance.

And I have to trust that she won’t shake the wire. That she won’t knock me off just because shecan.

Shaking that thought free, I grab my wallet and keys, then head out. I lock the door and set a timer on my phone. I’ll be back before she wakes up. No more mixed signals, no more hiding behind sarcasm or sex. This time, I’ll bring something that saysI see you. That says I want more than just the heat between us.

I’ll offer a real olive branch—one she doesn’t have to interpret.

I’ll ask her if she wants to keep doing this… if she wants to build something real. And if she doesn’t, at least I’ll know. At least I won’t be left wondering at the end of all this—left staring at a closing door with my heart still in her hands, completely out of reach.

But somehow, I don’t think that’s how this ends.

A slow smile creeps across my face as I slip behind the wheel. We’ve already lost ten years. We’re not wasting any more.

This time, we’ll do it right. Together.

Chapter 13 - Noelle

I reach out for Colin, half-asleep, wanting to pull him closer—feel his warmth, his weight,something.But my hand brushes against cold sheets. Empty space.

My eyes snap open. He’s gone.

I sit up, heart pounding, scanning the room like maybe I missed him somehow. But the bed is empty. No note. No text. Nothing to reassure me that he didn’t just run.

Again.

My chest tightens as I check the bathroom—empty. The living room? Kitchen? Nothing. Not a sound. Just the quiet stillness ofhisapartment pressing in around me like a weight.

And there I stand, completely naked, in the center of a space that isn't mine, wearing the proof of him across my skin. The ache in my body, the bruises and bite marks, the places still warm where his hands had held me—none of it is subtle. There’s no pretending it didn’t happen. No rewriting the story.

We had sex. Twice.

And I didn’t just enjoy it—Ilovedit. Every second. The way he touched me like he knew exactly how I needed to be unraveled. The teasing, the control, the softness threadedunderneath it all. That mix of dominance and tenderness that caught me completely off guard.

And now?

He’s gone.

Just like ten years ago.

He waited until I was asleep and slipped out, like it meant nothing. LikeImeant nothing.

And here I am again—alone. Wanting to believe this time was different.

My eyes burn as the tears rise, and my chest tightens like it’s folding in on itself. I can’t breathe—no inhale feels deep enough.

Ifellfor him again. Fell forthisagain.

He told me to stay. He looked at me like I meant something. The things he said… God, they must’ve been nothing more than heat-of-the-moment lies. Words tangled up in sex and adrenaline.

I’m shaking now—furious at him, but even more at myself.

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