Arielle didn’t cry immediately.
She stood there for a long minute, staring down the snowy street where Noah had disappeared, the cold swirling around her boots, the air stinging her cheeks. The lamps behind her still flickered dangerously, but she didn’t move.
“Get it together,” she whispered to herself.
“Don’t cry. You do dumb things when you cry. You start hiccuping like a broken cartoon character.”
But the tears betrayed her anyway, sliding hot and relentless down her cold skin.
A fight wasn’t supposed to happen.
Not with Noah.
Not after everything.
Not after he’d saved her life twice in one week.
Not after he’d made peppermint tea taste like safety.
Not after she’d kissed him and felt her entire soul rearrange itself.
This fight wasn’t right.
This fight wasn’t them.
When s
