Page 107 of Try Line Hearts
“I’m proud to count you as a friend,” she said. “No matter what.”
Then she stepped back and slipped into the car.
The door shut with a soft thump.
The blue sedan rolled forward, tires whispering on asphalt, tail lights glowing red before the car turned the corner and disappeared from view.
Byrne stood still.
He held the chocolate in his hand like it weighed a ton.
For a few seconds, he managed to keep himself composed. He stayed stoic. Tall.Captain. The version of him that survived.
Then the car was gone and the last of his control went with it.
His shoulders caved.
His breath broke.
A sound tore out of him—raw, ugly, the kind of sob he would’ve been embarrassed to hear from anyone else. He bent forwardslightly, one hand braced on his thigh, the other clenched around the purple wrapper like it was the only solid thing left in his world.
Tears blurred the car park lights into smeared halos.
He didn’t wipe them quickly enough. He couldn’t.
He stood there, shaking, grief and shame and exhaustion crashing through him in waves.
He had no idea how long he stayed like that—minutes, maybe. Time went strange when your body finally stopped obeying.
Eventually, he forced himself to move.
He stumbled to his car, fumbled the keys, got the door open.
He slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door.
The enclosed space did nothing to stop the sobbing. If anything, it made it louder.
He pressed the heel of his hand to his mouth like he could muffle himself into dignity.
He stared at the chocolate in his palm.
Purple wrapper. Small. Ridiculous.
A lifeline from the one person he’d been letting slip away.
Byrne’s chest heaved. He tried to breathe properly. Tried to calm down enough to drive.
He was still shaking when there was a sharp knock at the window.
Byrne jolted so hard his heart nearly leapt out of his throat.
He whipped his head toward the sound, adrenaline spiking—his body primed for danger.
Maeve stood outside the driver’s side window.
In-person.
Arms folded. Expression like thunder held in a small Irish woman’s body. A hood pulled up against the cold, hair escaping anyway. Eyes sharp, worried, furious, relieved.
