He gave her strength. But was she strong enough to start over? She wasn’t seventeen anymore.
She wasn’t ninety, either. Age was just a number. An excuse to give up.
Mending a broken heart felt impossible. But that was life, wasn’t it? Everyone got their heart broken at least once. Now that she’d experienced it, she knew how to avoid it.
She wouldn’t go home. She would never fall in love again. She could focus on a career. Did she still want that?
Did she still want to jump?
It would be easier.
Since when did she ever take the easy route?
Fuck, she was just so tired. Exhaustion pushed in from every direction, pulling on her limbs and straining her insides. It hurt to breathe.
Maybe she should go back to the motel and sleep on it. But if she stepped away from this bridge, she knew she wouldn’t return.
So she stayed. Deliberated. Reread Tommy’s email. Listened to Mason’s new voicemail messages. Then she watched her video through a fresh sheen of tears.
On the screen, she looked like a raving lunatic. A sad, pitiful victim crying out for help. That wasn’t her. It was just a moment, one she’d needed to give herself. If she was brave enough, she could put the video and all thoughts of suicide behind her.
She deleted the recording. Then she sat in the silence and allowed herself to grieve.
Hours passed. She remained on the bridge until the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon.
She hadn’t slept. Hadn’t jumped. But she was no longer crying.
After spending the evening imagining what her life would look like without Mason, she had a plan. It wasn’t dreamy or exciting, but it was obtainable. She could get by with a broken heart, and maybe someday, she might find a way to be happy as a single woman.
The sunrise stretched pink and lavender fingers across the rippling surface of the river below. In the light, a fall at this height felt a lot more daunting.
Her moment to jump had come and gone.
Woodenly, she gathered her things into her bag and checked her phone.
Another email had been sent to Tommysgirl ten minutes ago. She opened the message.
Me again.
I fought with my mom last night. Turns out, I was right about her cancer.
The doctors give her six months to live.
I really need you.
Are you there?
“Yeah.” She stepped away from the ledge and trudged to her car on bare feet. “I’m here, Tommy.”
CHAPTER 1
Eldorado, Texas
Present Day
“I’ll only be gone a month, Evan.” Rylee breezed past him, her mind running in a million different directions. “The lights are on timers, so don’t mess with the switches.”
“At least tell me where you’re going.” Evan caught her arm, stopping her at the front door. “You owe me that much.”
“Bullshit.” Anger flared as she whirled on him. “I had one rule.”
“I never agreed—”
“No expectations. No commitments. No possessive behavior.”
“That’s three.”
“All synonymous with no clinging.”
“I’m not…” He followed her narrowed gaze to his grip on her arm. “Jesus.” His fingers sprung open, releasing her. “Don’t break my balls because I give a shit.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what? Caring about you?”
“Yes.” She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder on her way out the door. “My bills are paid through next month. You’re listed as my emergency contact, but nothing is going to happen. It’s just a sabbatical. My first vacation ever.”
“Rylee.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her exit off the porch.
“Evan.” Impatience clipped her voice.
His bright blue eyes searched her face as his hand crept along her jaw, soft yet demanding. “Let me in.”
She’d let him in her bed, and that was enough.
More than enough.
In the ten years since her divorce, she made it a point only to have sex with strangers. She didn’t do relationships. Never slept with the same man twice. She didn’t let people in.
Then Evan moved into the house next door.
For the first few years, she turned down his persistent sexual advances. Didn’t matter how goddamn good-looking he was. A one-night stand with a guy who lived twenty feet away was a terrible idea.
But Evan was confident and aggressive and gorgeous in all the ways that spoke to her. So it happened—late one evening, after too many beers and a long bout of loneliness.
Drunken stupidity had been her excuse the first time. But the sex was good. So she let it continue. With one rule.
No clingy attachment.
Except they were together a lot. His place. Her place. Several nights a week. Until she woke one morning and realized he was the only man who had been in her bed in over a year.
She’d broken her own damned rule.
Not only did she have sex with her next-door neighbor, but she’d also become monogamous with him. That was dangerously close to a relationship.
“I need to go.” She tried to step around him.
“You have no obligations for the next month.” He stayed with her, sliding a hand into the back pocket of her jeans, his fingers squeezing her butt as he tucked their hips together. “Give me a few minutes.”