Zoe's POV
For a moment, it felt like the world forgot how to turn.
Not the rain hammering the windows.
Not the soft pulse of city lights glowing far below.
Not even the wild pounding in her chest.
Just… Ethan's eyes.
Locked on hers through the glass.
Soaked. Shivering.
And desperate, not the kind that begged.
The kind that bled.
Mason's hand slid back to her waist, firm and claiming. His fingers rested beneath her ribs, heat seeping into her skin.
"Want me to make him vanish?" he whispered, his lips grazing her forehead, voice smooth with a sharp edge.
Zoe's lips parted, but no words came out.
Nothing came out.
"I'll take you home right now," Mason whispered, wrapping his words around her ear like smoke. "Let him stand out there all night in the rain like some ghost. You'll be wrapped around me instead."
She blinked.
And that blink was all it took for her whole chest to split wide open.
Ethan's apology.
His kiss.
There was a deep, aching tenderness in the way his hands moved over her, like each careful stroke carried an apology he didn't know how to speak out loud, words that never made it past his lips but somehow found their way into her skin, where she could feel every unspoken I'm sorry sinking in, warm and heavy and real.
Then there was Mason.
Heat. Control. Steady hands that never asked her to be anything but this.
Wanted, without needing to be fixed.
Her breath slipped out in a quiet, trembling sigh, leaving her chest aching.
"I need air."
She pulled away from Mason's touch before he could tighten it.
Turned.
Walked straight to the door.
And opened it.
The wind slapped her across the face, sharp and biting, like all the feelings she'd been choking down finally found a way out.
Rain poured over her in heavy sheets, soaking her hair, chilling her skin, making her feel small and alive all at once.
But honestly, none of it even mattered right then.
Because all she could see was him.
Ethan.
Standing under that bruised, storming sky.
He stood there, soaked to the bone, shivering as the wind whipped around him.
His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, but he didn't move. He just kept his eyes on her, like he couldn't remember a time they weren't looking right at her.
And in them, something broke.
Something opened.
He didn't speak right away.
He just looked.
And God, it hurt.
Because somehow, even ruined and soaking wet… he was still beautiful to her.
She stepped closer.
Rain ran down her face, mingling with tears she refused to shed.
Ethan shook his head, droplets flying from his soaked hair, strands falling into his eyes.
"Don't go home with him."
"I wasn't going to," she whispered, voice shaking.
"You were," he said, his voice rough and broken. "Until you saw me."
Her jaw tightened so hard it hurt. "You shouldn't be here."
"I know."
"You're messing with my head."
"I'm not trying to."
"Well, you are," she snapped. Her voice cracked as the rain blurred everything, her sight, her will, her anger."You show up and shatter every step I take toward moving on."
"Because I still believe in us," he said, soft and certain.
And just like that, his words sliced through her like cloth tearing clean down the middle.
She laughed bitterly, tired and broken.
"There is no us, Ethan."
He stepped closer, just enough for his warmth to brush against her in the middle of all that cold.
"You still love me."
Her throat seized.
"And I still need you," he said, his voice barely rising above the wind, like a truth he was scared to say too loud. "I still need you."
She turned, ready to run back to safety.
Back to Mason.
Back to anything that wasn't this.
But he caught her wrist.
Soft.
Gentle.
Not to hold her, just… not to lose her.
When he pulled her against him, their wet bodies pressed together, and her heart twisted painfully, like grief itself was crushing her chest.
"I can't breathe without you, Zoe," he murmured against her chilled lips, his voice breaking. "I know how pathetic that sounds." But it's the truth. I'm not trying to fix you. I'm begging you to let me fix me… while loving you right this time."
She looked up at him.
Drenched.
Wide open.
Scared as hell.
And real.
Then she kissed him.
Hard.
Angry.
Hungry.
She drank in every unspoken regret from his mouth, tasting apologies buried in the way he kissed her, like his world would end if he ever stopped.
They stumbled to the car, hands everywhere.
She shoved him into the back seat. Crawled in after.
Her fingers fumbled with his belt, urgency trembling through her hands as he pulled her sweater over her head in one breathless motion.
His touch swept across her skin like a man trying to memorize a map he'd burned once and was terrified to lose again.
She kicked off her jeans, the wet jean fabric dragging down her legs like it didn't want to let go.
His shirt tore beneath her nails.
She climbed onto him, panties still clinging, hips rolling against the thick, aching tension straining through his zipper.
"Tell me you missed this," he panted against her neck.
"I missed hating you," she snarled, biting his jaw hard.
"Then hate me harder," he growled, unzipping with trembling fingers.
She shoved her panties aside.
He grabbed himself.
Guided her down.
When he drove into her, deep, hot, heavy, she broke apart, her cry twisted somewhere between a moan and a sob.
His hands gripped onto her hips, fingers digging in like he needed to anchor himself inside her.
And she let him.
Welcomed the bruises, the burn, the claiming.
Her nails raked down his chest, dragging red heat across skin as she rode him, wild, unfiltered, and untamed.
Every thrust, punishment.
Every grind, forgiveness.
Every breath, unfinished business.
The windows blured fast.
The storm outside raged like a war drum.
"I'm not letting you go again," he groaned, his forehead resting against hers as he drove into her harder.
"You never had me," she gasped.
"I'm taking you now," he said, raw and urgent. "Every part. Every memory. Every fucking scream."
She moaned his name, throwing her head back, hair clinging to her back in dripping strands.
And then she broke again.
Hard.
Her cry swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her through it.
Seconds later, he followed, groaning, pulsing deep inside her, his whole body trembling beneath her.
Then there was silence.
Except for the rain.
And the sound of them, wrecked. Alive. Still wanting.
Zoe slid off him, her body trembling as she reached into the trunk for a blanket and wrapped it tight around her chest, trying to hold in everything that threatened to spill out.
Turned toward the fogged window.
Watched raindrops race down the glass like memories she couldn't shake.
Ethan just lay there.
Eyes on the ceiling.
Chest rising, uneven.
"I don't know what to do with you," she whispered, her voice breaking on the truth.
He turned his head to her, eyes weary and shining all at once. "I know exactly what I want to do," he murmured, a sad smile ghosting his lips. "But I know I haven't earned it." Not yet."
She didn't respond.
Just watched the city shift behind the misted glass.
Her phone buzzed.
She picked it up.
Read the message.
Mason:
You left your earring. I'll keep it until you come get it.
Her stomach twisted.
Another message followed:
Mason again:
I assume you're with him now. Just know this, Zoe… I don't lose gracefully.
She swallowed. Locked the screen.
Then turned to Ethan.
He was watching her now, eyes narrowed, questions rising behind them.
"What is it?" he asked, voice gentle and scared.
She stared at him.
Long.
Quiet.
Still caught between the war inside her.
And then she whispered
"You just started a war."