I grab my preliminary design board for the spa, gliding my palm over the sleek surface before tucking it into my portfolio. This project is going to be everything.

With my presentation put away, I move to the break area, pouring out the last bit of coffee and washing the pot in the sink. A normal task, something I do every day—but there’s an extra lightness in my chest now.

This is what I’ve been working toward. What I fought for. And now it’s happening.

Setting the clean coffee pot in the dish drainer, I swipe a towel over the counter, my mind already drifting to Alex. He’s on his way. We’re going shopping. Then dinner. Then… more.

A slow heat creeps through me.

This day keeps getting better.

I enter my office… and freeze.

Tyson McRae is standing there.

A squeal slips out before I can stop it. A rush of adrenaline surges through me, sharp and immediate. My breath catches in my throat.

His face is a damn mess—bruised, swollen, his left eye black from where Alex’s fist connected. There’s a splint on his nose, proof that he received medical attention after leaving my apartment last night.

I swallow, my pulse kicking up.

Alex would lose his mind if he knew Tyson was here. He might murder him this time instead of beating the shit out of him.

“Mags––”

“You can’t be here.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to see me right now, but we didn’t get to finish our conversation last night.”

“There’s nothing left to say.”

“I meant what I said last night. I love you, Magnolia.”

“Stop saying that.”

He shakes his head, jaw tightening. “I have to say it because I need you to know.”

Anger simmers beneath my skin, rising with every second he stands there, uninvited.

“Let me explain something to you. When you love someone, you put their happiness first. You want them to have everything they’ve ever dreamed of—even if it costs you everything. Even when I thought Alex had chosen someone else, I still wanted him to be happy. Even as it broke me, I prayed he’d find the life he deserved. Because that’s what genuine love is. Selfless. Unwavering. Even when it tears you apart.”

I give him a minute to absorb.

“Can you say the same? Do you love me enough to let me go? Enough to want me to be with the one I choose—even if that person is Alex?”

His throat bobs, but he doesn’t answer. And that hesitation? It tells me everything.

“Sebring wants things you are not ready to give him.”

Who the fuck made Tyson McRae the authority on what I am—or am not—ready to give someone? “What do you think Alex wants that I’m not prepared to give him?”