NAOMI’S POV
He stood in the doorway and took it.
Every word. The Caleb comparison. The accusation. The truth he didn't want to hear from the one person whose opinion could actually cut him. He took it the way he took hits on the ice – absorbed it, let it land, didn't flinch.
Then he stepped back. Left the door open.
Not an invitation. Not an apology. Just – space. Room for me to enter if I wanted to. The Rhys equivalent of a white flag.
I walked in.
The apartment was dark. Takeout containers on the counter from what looked like two days ago. Books still on the floor from the table incident – neither of us had picked them up and the symbolism of that was almost funny if it wasn't so pathetic. He moved to the kitchen. Leaned against the counter. Arms crossed. Looking at me with an expr
