Page 209 of Rising Heat

Brett doesn’t even look at him.

“I think we should talk.”

“We are talking.”

I cross my arms.

“No.” His eyes stay on mine. “A real conversation. Alone.”

There it is again. That calm, patient tone I’d spent three years mistaking for reason. If he stayed steady long enough, eventually I’d get emotional, we’d stop talking about what I’d actually said, and somehow I’d end up apologizing instead.

“You don’t get to show up outside my apartment after three months and act like we just hit pause in the middle of an argument,” I say.

His expression twists into anger.

“You left before we really got to talk about anything.”

A laugh escapes my throat before I can stop it.

Sharp enough that all three of them look at me.

“Without talking about anything.”

“Darcy—”

“No, I just want to make sure I heard that correctly…”

My pulse starts beating hard enough that I can feel it in my ears now.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mack shift a step closer.

“You proposed to me because your parents expected it,” I say. “You picked a condo in the suburbs before you even asked where I wanted to live. You decided where our wedding would be before I’d looked at a single venue. Every time I tried to tell you I was unhappy, you told me I was stressed.”

“You were stressed.”

I laugh again.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“What?”

“You say things like they’re facts.” My voice is steadier now than I feel. “Like if you sound reasonable enough, everyone else is supposed to stop arguing.”

His jaw flexes.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

The second he says it, I feel every old argument slam back into place at once—me trying harder to explain myself while he stayed calm enough for both of us, me crying and immediately feeling embarrassed for it, me walking away from conversations already half convinced I’d invented the problem in the first place.

Behind me Tyler mutters under his breath.

“Bad answer.”

Brett’s eyes snap toward him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”