HIS WILDFIRE

Caged in Love

I used to think heartbreak was the worst thing love could give you. I was wrong.

Love turns violent when it feels like it's slipping away.

And right now, it wasn't heartbreak tightening around my throat, it was Jaime's hand.

I sat stiff on the bed, back pressed so deep against the wall that my bones ached. The room smelled of him. Soap. Cologne. Sweat. That scent used to make me feel safe. Now it made my stomach twist.

The lock clicked. Slow. Deliberate. Jaime pushed the door open like he had all the time in the world.

But he wouldn't even look at me. His eyes—once soft, once the kind that felt like home, were now cold, unreadable. The silence was suffocating. Every second stretched like it wanted to snap my sanity in two.

Something in me cracked before I could stop it.

"You know what?" I said, voice cutting through the thick air, "Let's just end this. Right here. Let's stop pretending we're something we're not. You don't have to see me again. You don't even have to know me."

It was a stupid kind of bravery—the kind that only shows up when you've got nothing left.

He stopped. Head tilted slightly, a small grin tugging at his mouth like I'd just told a joke only he understood.

"End it?" His voice was soft, almost gentle. "Really?"

He stepped closer, slow like a cat playing with a dying mouse. I could smell the alcohol from his breath.

"You wouldn't have to see me again," I repeated, my hands gripping the fabric of my shorts so tightly they trembled.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

The tip of his finger traced my bottom lip. My breath hitched. The touch was soft—so soft I could almost pretend we were lovers again. Almost.

Then his hand slid to my throat. Not squeezing. Not yet. Just there. His thumb resting against the fragile beat of my pulse like he was reminding me: I could take this from you if I wanted to.

I tried not to shake, but my body betrayed me. My chest rose and fell like I was running out of air.

And then—

He kissed me.

Not rough. Not wild. Gentle. The kind of kiss that used to make me melt. But now I wanted to scream. It was like kissing the person who'd dragged you underwater and smiled while you drowned.

"I love you," Jaime murmured against my lips. "What about that, Grandee? What about how I feel?"

Tears burned hot behind my eyes. Not because I loved him but because I couldn't tell where love stopped and fear began anymore.

My silence made him colder. His expression twisted like a knife in his own gut. And then he said it.

"Would it have been the same if your sweetheart T-T-Ted didn't exist?" He spat Ted's name like it was poison on his tongue.

I flinched. My heart wanted to scream Ted has nothing to do with this. But it wasn't true. He did. They both did. And now here I was, drowning in the middle of the mess I had made.

"Answer me!" Jaime hissed.

I looked up at him. My lips parted, but no words came out. I could only shake my head. Hopeless, helpless. Trapped in this house, this room, this relationship that used to be the best thing in my life and now was the reason I could barely breathe.

Jaime's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping into something dangerous. "So bad I missed."

I froze.

My body dropped to the floor like my bones had forgotten how to hold me up. Missed.