Page 62 of Better than Yesterday
“Just stop. It doesn’t matter.” My voice cut through herwords like a blade. “This is over. Us. I’m ending it. Not you, not your parents, not that job offer to the Great Barrier Reef. Me. Right here, right now.”
She stared at me, her face going blank. Like she couldn’t process the words I was saying even though they were plain English. “Braden, you’re not thinking clearly. You heard about the email and you’re spiraling and?—”
“I’m not insecure.” I crossed my arms in a solid wall of muscle and pride. “I’m making a choice. A rational one. You know what I realized after leaving your place? I’m a good man, Tessa. And I’m good enough to know that I won’t spend the rest of my life making you feel guilty for wanting more.”
“I don’t want more?—”
“Don’t lie.” My voice was low, each word a carefully placed stone. “The fact that you’re standing here trying to explain it is all the proof I need. The right answer—theonlyanswer—was to decline that offer. But you didn’t, did you? You hesitated. Because it’s what you’ve always wanted.”
“That’s not?—”
“So let’s make this simple.” I dropped my arms and took a step toward her, forcing her to meet my eyes. “If what’s standing in front of you—me, this place, this life we were building—isn’t enough to make you turn that offer down without a second thought, then you need to take it. In fact, I’ll drive you to the airport myself.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The tears finally spilled over, tracking paths down her cheeks.
“This isn’t a test, Tessa. Or an ultimatum. You finally got what you wanted. So I’m making the choice this time. We’re done. Because I refuse to be the guy you almost picked.” I turned away from her then, gripping the coldsteel of the nearest tank. “Go have your brilliant life and get out of mine.”
The silence was absolute. I could hear the bar through the wall, the murmur of employees talking and the clink of glasses. My breathing was ragged and uneven. I couldn’t look at her. If I looked at her face, if I saw her tears, I might forget that I was the one who was finally in control.
“I love you,” she said quietly.
The words hit deep inside me and I gripped the edge of the tank harder. My chest cracked open. My throat tightened.
“Don’t.” My voice came out raw, desperate in a way I couldn’t afford. “Don’t use those words when your actions have already made the choice.”
“My choice is?—”
“No. It’s over. Goodbye, Tessa.”
I didn’t watch her leave. I kept my back turned and my hands clenched around steel, keeping my eyes on the tanks that had never disappointed me. I heard her take a shaky breath and move toward the door. The brewing area door closed behind her with a soft click.
Then nothing. Just the hum of cooling systems. I stood alone in the cold industrial space, surrounded by the clean lines of my brewery, my accomplishment, my proof of worth. I’d finally learned how to let go.
The trouble was, I’d waited until there was nothing left to hold.
Chapter Twenty-One
TESSA
My townhouse was even moreforeign when I returned. The lights were too bright. Or maybe that was just me—stripped raw, unable to function normally. My parents were in the living room when I walked in, waiting. The triumphant energy from before was gone, replaced by a tense, anxious silence.
My mother stood the moment she saw my face. “Tessa? Oh, honey, what happened? Are you all right?”
I couldn’t form a complete sentence. I just gave a single, ragged shake of my head. Eventually, I found my voice. “I found him. He ended it. It’s over.”
My mother rushed forward and pulled me into an embrace that was both comforting and suffocating. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”
My father came to stand beside us, placing a hand on my shoulder. “He doesn’t deserve you, Tessa. If he couldn’t see what he had, then this is for the best.”
His words, meant to be soothing, only grated. I pulled away from my mother’s hug, needing space.
“Maybe this is a blessing in disguise,” my mother added, her tone shifting from sympathy to something more practical, more hopeful. “It simplifies things. I know you’re feeling terrible, and I’m so sorry. But now you’re free to really consider the Australia offer, without… distractions.”
And there it was. The pivot. The gentle reframing of my heartbreak into a career move.
“A distraction?” I repeated, my voice dangerously quiet. “That’s what you think Braden was?”
My mother faltered, seeing the shift in my expression. “Well, in the grand scheme of things?—”
