No, he didn’t get to ask Harley for everything but then only give her the parts he chose. She wanted the broken parts too. Wanted all of him. And Torrie was a part of him—the other half of his soul. If he couldn’t share that part of himself, Torrie’s memory would effectively become a barrier between them.

Maybe a part of him needed that barrier. Maybe he was hiding behind it, not wanting to risk feeling that depth of pain ever again. Harley didn’t know. She did know that she’d been wrong about her place in his heart. She wasn’t wedged as deep as she’d thought, wasn’t as vital to him as she’d clearly fooled herself into believing. And now she didn’t know what to do about it.

She could cut her losses and leave. But she knew what would happen if she did. Jesse would tell her what she wanted to know, sure, but he’d do it for the wrong reason. It wouldn’t be him lowering his walls. It would be him doing what he had to do to make her stay—and doing it begrudgingly. That wouldn’t fix anything.

She could stay, giving him the time to see for himself what he needed to do to make imprinting work. But she’d, all the while, be aware that he didn’t care for her as much as she’d thought, aware that she cared for him more than he did her. That would eat at her and twist her up inside, though not enough to grow to hate him . . . which was a shame, because that would have made it easy for her to go.

So what the fuck should she do? God help her, she didn’t have a clue. Her cat was just as mixed up about the whole thing. Harley did know that making such a decision while her emotions were running high would be a bad idea. Harley never made good decisions while she was hurt or pissed. And there wasn’t a lot she could do at this late hour anyway.

Tomorrow. She’d figure it out tomorrow. One thing she was sure of was that if she did decide to go, she’d need to have the words to make him understand that it was best for both of them. If she couldn’t get him on the same wavelength, he’d just harass her to stay. And she was weak enough to do just that, hating to hurt him when he was already so wounded.

Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dried off and pulled on her robe. Opening the bathroom door, she found an empty bedroom. The bastard hadn’t just dismissed her; he’d left her. With a low growl, she exchanged her robe for shorts and a tank top before sliding into bed. It took a while for the chaos in her mind to calm, but eventually sleep crept up on her.

She was half asleep when a solid body curved around hers and one hand splayed over her stomach. Ignoring him, she forced herself to relax. She’d need her sleep to deal with him tomorrow.

Jesse woke up alone. It took only mere moments before memories of the previous night pushed to the forefront of his mind. A sick feeling took hold in his stomach. He’d fucked up last night. Slammed up his guard and, in doing so, hurt the one person who shouldn’t have to fear he’d ever hurt her. If he’d just calmly explained he didn’t want to talk about Torrie, Harley probably would have accepted that. But no, he’d been unnecessarily cold.

Rolling onto his back, he pinched the bridge of his nose. God, he was such a dick. His wolf pushed against his skin, urging him to seek her out. That was what he’d do. He needed to find her and fix this. Cats were notorious for holding grudges, but Harley would accept an apology with grace if it were heartfelt. He was counting on that now.

Once he was washed and dressed, Jesse headed downstairs. Harley was nowhere to be seen, so he exited the patio door and saw that, yep, she was sitting in the tree with a book. She didn’t look at him, though she had to have sensed him. She was fully dressed in a pair of slashed jeans and a pale-blue T-shirt—a T-shirt that hid his claiming mark. He was hoping that wasn’t intentional. In any case, it annoyed his wolf.

“Morning, baby,” he greeted gently, testing the waters.

She looked down at him and softly greeted, “Morning.” She seemed serene. Relaxed. Trouble free. Which made absolutely no sense to him. Her attention went right back to her book.

“Come here,” he coaxed.

Gold eyes cut to him. “Why?”

“So I can apologize.” That got him no response. All right, he’d do it from where he stood. “I hurt you last night. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”

She pursed her lips. “Apology accepted.”

He sensed it wasn’t a lie. He also sensed that, though she may accept his apology, he’d broken something. Something he wasn’t sure he knew how to fix. And it didn’t bode well for him that she’d resumed reading her book as opposed to climbing down the tree.

“Baby,” he said. “Baby, look at me.” Her gaze met his, and his enhanced vision picked up that it was clear and tranquil, yet there was something missing. Anxiety trickled through him, and his wolf’s hackles rose. “Don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then don’t wish you could.” Her eyes flashed. Ah, he’d hit the nail on the head there. “I told you before that you’re more important to me than anything. I meant it.”

Harley knew her smile was a little sad. She was more important to him than anything, but not so important that she had any rights to his memories of Torrie. She’d spent the past hour debating on whether to stay or go. She was very tempted to just pack her shit and march out, but that was fueled by anger and wounded pride, not good sense. And walking out felt too much like giving up. Harley had never been a quitter.