SADIE
I stop on the step. Grant, behind me, follows my gaze and actually has the nerve to scoff.
"See," Grant says, low. "Possessive. That's not stay. That's a dog with a toy."
"Walk away," I say. "Now."
"I'm trying to help you."
"You're trying to feel like the reasonable one. It's your favorite costume." I don't look at him. I look at Rhys, at the stillness in his shoulders, at the way he hasn't gotten out of the truck yet because getting out of the truck would make this a scene. "If you ever loved me, even a little, you will not walk over there."
Grant hesitates. Then he does that shrug, the one from my living room, the one that said fine, if that's how you want to be.
"When he leaves," Grant says, "my number's the same. I'm not too proud."
"I am," I say. "That's new too."
He g
