Page 220 of Wild Card 13

Someone shouted back at him. More laughter followed.

No one noticed me at first.

That was a relief.

The yard was crowded enough that I could slip along the edge of it, past a group of girls sitting on the deck steps, past two boys arguing over a cooler, past Claire carrying a stack of paper plates with the focused expression of someone preventing civilization from collapsing. Inside, the sliding door stood open. Music pulsed from the living room, old hardwood floors vibrating faintly beneath too many shoes.

I scanned for Ty.

I found Mase first. He stood near the kitchen island, speaking to someone I did not know, his brows drawn together in that quiet,serious way he had when he was listening for more than words. His gaze swept the room and landed on me.

Surprise flickered across his face.

I forced a small smile.

He lifted one hand, already starting toward me, but someone called his name from the deck.

I shook my head once, tiny enough that maybe he would understand. I was fine. I did not need an announcement. I did not need anyone to make space for me. I only needed Ty.

Mase hesitated. Then his eyes shifted toward the hallway.

I followed the look before I understood why.

Ty stood at the far end of the room near the hall that led to the bedrooms.

For one breath, all I felt was relief.

Blond hair messy from his own hand, shoulders broad beneath a navy T-shirt, face turned downward with that focused gentleness he wore when something had stripped the joking out of him. He was not performing. Not laughing. Not being pulled in twelve directions.

He had one arm around a girl I did not know.

The relief vanished so quickly it left me hollow.

She was pressed close to his side, her dark hair falling forward like a curtain. His hand rested at her waist, fingers spread against the small of her back as he guided her down the hall. Her face was turned into his chest. One of her hands clutched the front of his shirt, knuckles pale in the cotton.

Ty bent his head toward her. Close enough that from where I stood, it looked like intimacy. Like privacy. Like a secret already in motion.

My entire body went cold.

People moved around me. Someone brushed my shoulder. Music kept playing. A burst of laughter came from the deck, bright and careless and belonging to another universe.

I could not hear anything except the blood rushing in my ears.

Ty’s hand shifted lower as the girl stumbled. He caught her immediately, firm and practiced, his body curving around hers like he knew exactly how to hold her. She leaned more heavily into him.

He opened the guest room door.

The room beyond was dark.

For half a second, his profile turned into the hallway light. His face was serious. Protective, maybe. Tender, definitely. The kind of tenderness I had thought belonged to me.

Then he stepped inside with her and closed the door.

Something inside me split so cleanly there was no sound at first. No sob. No gasp. Just a bright, white absence where feeling should have been, like my heart had stepped backward out of my body and left me standing there alone.

I thought of my mother’s text.

I thought of Ty in Betsy saying Boston and Fargo like certainty could hold a continent together.