“I meant what I said too. This is the last time.”
“Yeah,” he says, and for once, I believe him. xev bellringer ride
And something shifts in my chest—not anger, not grief, but a strange, quiet thrill. The wind tears at my jacket. The engine growls beneath me. For the first time in years, I am not waiting for him to return. I am the one moving. I reach the edge of Stillwater at dusk. “I meant what I said too
I cup his jaw. His stubble is rough against my palm. “Because I’m tired of watching you run. And I’m tired of running after you. So this is the last time. After tonight, you either come home and stay, or I’m gone for good.” The wind tears at my jacket
“I know.”
“You always leave everything.”