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“You’re projecting!” I cried, batting at his arms, trying to free myself. “You think you’re a worthless piece of shit, not them!”

“I AM A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!” he bellowed, using his grip on my shoulders to shake me. My diminutive size in comparison to his was no match for his strength, and my head smashed repeatedly into the door, causing me to cry out in pain.

Then he was gone, backing away from me, his eyes wide with shock, holding his hands up in the air.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, blinking rapidly, shaking his head. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Fists clenched, teeth gritted, my chest heaving, I glared up at him. I was so angry with him, but it was more than that, it was so much more. I still hadn’t forgiven him, that was painfully apparent now. The longer I stared, the angrier I grew, and the angrier I grew, all I could seem to focus on was everything I’d ever done wrong—and almost everything I’d done wrong could be attributed to this man standing before me. We weren’t good for each other, we never had been, but we’d both been blinded by different things, and it had taken far too long to realize it.

He still hadn’t realized it.

But I had.

And once I had, it was as if a dam broke and I could feel myself splitting apart from the inside out. Everything I hadn’t realized I’d been keeping hidden within me for so very long now, it all just burst forth in a rush of mangled emotions and I couldn’t stop it. Nor could I stop what happened next.

I ran at him, sending first my right fist into his chest and then my left, and then I slapped him across the face, over and over again until my hands burned and his face was bright red. Tears streamed down both our faces but still I couldn’t stop. Jase didn’t move; he just took it and the more he took it, the more I wanted to hurt him—for hurting me, for hurting his wife, for hurting our children, for hurting himself, for hurting everyone and ruining everything.

“Look what you did!” I sobbed. “Look what you made me!”

“MOM!”

I hadn’t heard them come in, hadn’t even heard the door open. I was so consumed by emotion, so lost to my rage and my pain, that it wasn’t until I was dragged off Jase, and Tegen was standing between us shoving Jase backward, that I realized we were no longer alone.

“What did you do?” Tegen screamed, slamming her palms into Jase’s chest, sending him staggering backward. “What the fuck did you do?”

“No!” I cried out, trying to wrestle free from my captor’s grip. “No, Tegen! It was me! Stop it, right now!”

Everything and everyone seemed to stop what they were doing, all eyes suddenly on me. The hands gripping my arms fell away and I turned, finding it had been Cage who’d dragged me across the room.

“Out!” I shouted, pointing to the door. “Both of you, get out!”

Looking confused and upset, Tegen shook her head. “Mom?”

“Ouuuuuuuut!” The gravelly scream exploded from the bottom of my lungs and rang loudly throughout the small room.

“Babe,” Cage said softly, stepping forward. He reached out, his large hand engulfing Tegen’s small and trembling one. “Let’s go.”

Reluctant to leave me, she looked between Jase and me, indecision creasing her face. She’d always taken care of me when I hadn’t the strength to do so. When I’d been too weak to stand up for myself, Tegen had been there, fighting my battles, defending my honor.

That would end today.

Today, I wouldn’t spend another minute hating myself for the sins of my past, but instead would draw strength from them.

Today, a lot of things would end.

“Go,” I repeated, my tone softer, more controlled. “Trust me when I tell you that I’m fine.”

She said nothing, but didn’t fight him when Cage tugged her forward. I waited until the door was firmly closed behind them before turning back to Jase.

He stood before me looking as broken on the outside as he was on the inside. Both sides of his face were red and mottled with quickly forming bruises, his bottom lip was split in two places, and two thin trails of blood dripped down his chin.

I stepped forward, staring up at him, into those deep blue eyes I’d once thought I’d never see enough of, had never wanted to look away from.

“Do you remember the day we met?” I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming.

More tears fell from his eyes as he nodded. “Local store,” he said, his voice cracking. “On the county line.”

“Tegen had the flu,” I said, looking past him at the wall behind him. “My sister was watching her and I was picking up medicine—”

“You had puke on your shirt,” Jase whispered.

“You were wearing your fatigues,” I said. “You were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.”

I closed my eyes, picturing him as a young man dressed in military fatigues, holding a large green duffel bag as he stepped inside the small shop.

“You said, ‘Name’s Brady,’” I whispered. “Jason Brady.”

Despite my closed eyes, I could hear Jase’s approach, could feel the heat from his body as he stopped directly in front of me. And when his arms wrapped around me, against my better judgment, I sank into his embrace.

I smiled against his chest. “I remember you asking me, ‘You got a nickname, little Dorothy Matthews? ’Cause that’s a fuckin’ mouthful, right there. Not that I mind a mouthful of pretty girl.’”

Beneath my cheek, Jase’s chest heaved as he snorted. “I was an asshole.”

I nodded. “The worst kind of asshole,” I whispered. “The kind who thinks he’s a good guy.”

Through my shirt, I could feel Jase’s fingertips dig gently into my back, could feel the tension in his arms as he fought to restrain himself from touching me further, more intimately. Good God, I knew this man like the back of my hand. Even after all these years apart, I knew every inch of him, every nuance, every quirk. I knew everything.

That knowledge, how wasteful we’d been, devastated me.

“I’m sorry, Dorothy,” he whispered raggedly.

More tears fell from my eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

Jase’s hand dragged slowly up my back, up into my hair and softly gripping a fistful. I opened my eyes just as his other hand cupped the side of my face, tilting my chin. As he lowered his head, his lips descended upon mine.

I didn’t turn away; I didn’t flinch. I just waited until our lips were almost touching and then I reached up, standing on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck, and I kissed him.

It was a gentle kiss, nothing like the passion-filled ones we’d once shared. A stark difference from the chaotic lives we’d once lived.

It was a forgiving kiss, soft and sweet.

It was a good-bye kiss.

I pulled away from him, licking my lips and tasting his blood.

“You were my first love, Jason Brady,” I whispered, swallowing back the urge to sob.

His hands dropped to his sides, his expression crestfallen. “Don’t,” he rasped. “Don’t leave me again.”

God, my chest was going to collapse in on itself. Who would have thought after so many years apart that finally saying good-bye would hurt this badly? Especially when it would be so easy to say yes, to kiss him again and seal my fate. There was nothing standing in our way anymore, nothing holding either of us back.

Except there was. There was someone very much in our way. And I couldn’t ignore him anymore.

I took a deep breath, and that breath entered my lungs like a thousand shards of glass exploding. “I left you a long time ago,” I whispered, reaching up to place a hand over my breaking heart. “I just didn’t realize it.”

Jase’s features twisted with raw pain. “You love him.” Those three words were barely a whisper, just a rush of air, as if he couldn’t say them fast enough, as if speaking them aloud physically hurt him.