Once upon a time, I'd been a beggar at love's door, hoping he might spare me a scrap of affection between his visits to Alice. A crumb of sweetness from him could keep me glowing for three days.
Not anymore. I wanted nothing from him.
"No need—"
Before I could finish, his phone rang, the sound ricocheting off the concrete walls of the parking garage.
That ringtone. I knew it well—a custom tone he'd set just for Alice. Tacky and grating, but it suited her perfectly.
Dustin glanced at the screen. His entire face changed. The cold, tight line of his mouth softened into something tender. That granite jaw, perpetually carved in ice, thawed under the dim garage lights until it was almost gentle.
He turned his back to me. When he spoke, his voice was silk—careful, reverent, as if he'd become a different man entirely.
"Yeah, all taken care of. I'm on my way to you right now."
He hung up and slid the phone into his jacket.
"I need to get back to her. If I don't, her depression will flare up again." His tone turned clipped, urgent. No "Does your face still hurt?" No "Where are you headed—do you need a ride?"
He was simply in a rush to return to her side.
"Go. She needs you."