Page 186 of His Reckoning

Her hands lift slightly, like she’s trying to slow everything down. “The details are different.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” she insists. “I didn’t write your life. I wrote a character.”

“A character that just happens to react exactly the way I do?”

She shakes her head. “No?—”

“Don’t,” I cut her off. “Don’t try to spin it like this is something it’s not.”

Her frustration finally breaks through. “I’m not spinning anything!”

“Then what are you doing, Kayla?” I demand. “Because right now, it feels like I handed you the worst parts of my life and you turned around and sold them.”

The accusation hangs in the air, harsh and sharp, but I don’t take them back.

Kayla goes completely still. Hurt flashes across her face before she can hide it.

“That’s not fair,” she says quietly.

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” Her voice is steadier now. “I didn’t use you.”

“It feels like you did.”

She shakes her head again. “I wrote that story because I finally understood what makes someone like you … you.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

Her expression hardens slightly. “You think I wrote you as broken?”

I don’t answer because that’s exactly what it feels like.

She steps closer. “I didn’t.”

I look down at her. “Then what did you write?”

A beat passes, and then she says softly, “A man who survived something most people wouldn’t.”

The words hit hard but instead of settling, they twist something deeper in my chest.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want.”

Her breath catches. “Sawyer …”

“I didn’t tell you that so you could understand me,” I continue. “I told you because I thought?—”

I stop. I don’t even know how to finish that sentence anymore.

Because whatever I thought this was … it doesn’t feel like that now.

Kayla watches me carefully. “You thought what?”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”

The silence stretches between us.