"Don't."Timothy's across the room now, hands visible."Not your fault."
"I wanted—I thought I could—"
"Hey."His voice gentles."We've got time.No rush."
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Don't apologize."His voice is steady."You don't owe me anything."
"I just.I can't."
"I know."
He doesn't know.He can't possibly know.
But he's looking at me like he understands anyway.
"I should go," he says after a moment.
I nod.
He moves toward the door, and I follow because I need to lock it behind him.Need to rebuild the walls he just kicked down without even trying.
At the door, he turns back.
"If you need anything," he says."I'm right next door."
"Okay."
"I mean it, Carla.Three in the morning, three in the afternoon, doesn't matter.You need something, you knock."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just nod.
He leaves, and I lock the door behind him.Deadbolt.Chain.Doorknob.
Then I lean against it and press my fingers to my lips.
I can still taste him.
And I'm terrified because I want to unlock the door and pull him back inside.I want to finish what we started.I want to let him touch me and make me forget everything that came before.
But I can't.
Because the last time I let a man get close, I ended up running for my life.
