He staggered back like I’d hit him. “Jesus Christ.”
His face—God, I’d never seen him look like that. Not even when his dad left. This wasn’t heartbreak.
This was betrayal.
And I had done it.
“Jake—” I started, reaching for him, but he flinched like my touch would set him on fire.
“No.” His voice cracked, harsh and final. “Don’t.”
He turned away, grabbing his shirt from the floor in a single, jerky movement. He didn’t even put it on—just balled it in his fist and stalked out of the bedroom.
“Please just let me explain?—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” he bit out, jamming his feet into his shoes. “You already did.”
He grabbed some things from the coffee table, then slammed open the kitchen door so loud the cats scattered.
I stood there, frozen, heart pounding. What the hell could I say?
He didn’t look back.
Didn’t slam the door again, but shut it hard enough to shake the glass in its frame.
And then there was nothing but silence.
Silence and the sick, yawning weight of everything I couldn’t undo.
Chapter
Seventeen
FRANKIE
“Morning, Coop,” I said, my voice too bright, too brittle. It cracked at the edges, and I hated how fake it sounded. My head was still back at Jake—his rejection sharp as a slap, the flash of fury in his eyes, the way he stormed out without waiting for me to explain. Like I didn’t deserve the chance. It burned—his silence, his judgment, the finality of it. I didn’t owe him anything. Not really. Not aftereverything. But dammit, it still gutted me to have him look at me like I was nothing. Like I’d betrayed him.
I fumbled with my keys, fingers stiff and clumsy, and all I could think was:Don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of Coop.I clenched my jaw.You will not cry.
Coop didn’t look at me.
“Morning,” he said, but his gaze slid right past me, like I wasn’t even there. The word was clipped, cold—not awkward, not shy. Just distant.
I swallowed hard and opened the car door, forcing my hands to stay steady. My backpack hit the backseat with a dull thud, too loud in the glacial silence. When I shut the door and turned, Coop was finally looking at me—and I almost wished he wasn’t.
There was something hollow in his expression, tight around the eyes and mouth. Not quite anger. Not yet. But the kind of disappointment that sank straight into my chest like a stone. Not betrayal.Hurt.Quiet, restrained, and sharp enough to leave a bruise.
“You ready?” he asked. It sounded neutral. But it wasn’t. Nothing about the way he looked at me was impartial. If anything, it felt like he knew everything, judged me, and found me wanting. Thathurt.
It didn’t help that guilt clawed at my throat.
“Yeah,” I managed, and he slid into the passenger seat.
He didn’t speak again. Not once as I drove. The silence scraped at me. My heart pounded, like it knew what was coming and wanted to run from it. My fingers clenched the wheel tighter with every street we passed. This was worse than yelling.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s wrong?”
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Again. It had been buzzing almost since we got in the car. He didn’t even reach for it. Just leaned against the window, fist against his mouth.
