Page 44 of Keep Me Close

His expression crumbles. “Chey, I love you. Whatever happened between us, we can fix it. Just give me another chance.”

My stomach twists.

What started as attention became expectation and then pressure. There was guilt every time I wanted space or didn’t answer the phone quickly enough. Boundaries weren’t something he understood. Instead, he just kept pushing until it felt like I was suffocating.

And now, even after the breakup, he’s still doing it. Still trying to force his way into a life I no longer want him in.

“I’m sorry,” I say, tone firm. “It’s not going to work between us. You need to find a way to move on without me.”

He shakes his head, as if I’m the one being unreasonable. “There’s no way for me to do that. Don’t you understand how much I love you? How much I’ve given up for you?”

There it is again.

The guilt and obligation.

The same old trick of making me responsible for his choices, his feelings, his spiraling.

“I didn’t ask you to give up anything for me.”

Before the conversation can continue, Knox steps forward. Not enough to completely block me but enough that his bigger body becomes a barrier between us.

“Look, man,” he says. “Cheyenne already told you she’s not interested in reconciling. You need to accept her decision.”

Dakota doesn’t spare him a glance, and it unnerves me more than if he’d started shouting.

Gaze pinned to me, he jerks a thumb toward Knox. “Did you dump me so you could hook up with some meathead hockey player?”

“Dakota,” I warn.

His eyes flash. “Were you cheating on me? Is that what happened?”

“No. Of course not.”

His breathing turns ragged as his gaze shifts to Knox. The hatred in his expression is enough to make my blood run cold. “You’ll last a week,” he snaps. “Maybe two.”

“It’s time for you to go,” Knox says. Even though his voice remains calm, I hear the danger simmering beneath it.

Dakota gives a strange, slow nod. “You’re right. I should go.”

Relief flickers through me when he turns as if he’s going to leave before quickly pivoting and taking a swing. It all happens too quickly for my brain to process as his fist slams into Knox’s face with a sickening thud that echoes in the crisp morning air.

I gasp as Knox stumbles back a step. “Dakota!”

Without another word, my ex takes off down the sidewalk without so much as a backward glance, disappearing around the corner before anyone can stop him.

For one stunned second, the world goes silent before sound rushes back in all at once. There’s the pounding of my heart, the distant blare of a horn, and the doorman shouting behind us.

I’m on the move before I realize it, rushing to Knox’s side. “Oh my God.” My voice quivers. “A-are you okay?”

He straightens slowly, pressing his fingers to the darkening skin beneath his eye. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” My hands shake as I reach for him. “You were just sucker punched in the face.”

Knox catches my wrists gently before I can fuss too much. “I’m okay. Really.”

I can’t help but stare at the bruise already forming beneath his eye, and guilt slams into me so hard I can barely breathe. This happened because my ex followed me to Chicago and I didn’t realize how serious the situation had become. Some part of me kept telling myself he was heartbroken and struggling to let go.

I glance down the street in the direction where he disappeared, and the last of my denial shatters.