I realize my mistake the second I say it.
While I’m around.
She straightens and turns away from me.
I hate how accurate that is.
She might be safe for as long as I’m here, yeah—but that isn’t long enough.
Less than a week to go.
Less than seven days before we’re back home, separated with nothing but ashes of kisses and dead promises.
“Right. Well, thanks for the reminder. I appreciate everything you do.”
“Margot,” I start, but she’s already shaking her head.
“It’s cool. We both know it’s coming eventually. I mean, neither of us live here. We can’t turn everything upside down for… for this.” Her throat ticks as she swallows.
Now isn’t the time.
There are people swarming around.
Still, I see the way she’s closing off, reverting back to the pretty, remote woman I first met, before she softened up and showed me the person inside.
Less than a week.
Less than a fucking week.
One day at a time, though.
While I’m here, I’ll damn sure make the most of our time, even if I have to spend it keeping her safe.
I hate that she might have to stay longer, just to make sure the place doesn’t burn down mysteriously.
Maybe I can figure out some workaround.
She doesn’t even have to tell me that’s what she’ll do if it comes down to it. But with the kids, I can’t risk staying much longer.
I can’t be her personal shield when I have a family and handing them off to my mother only works for so long.
But leaving her alone, without worrying about her here?
Fucking impossible.
With the pissy way the Babins keep acting, I don’t trust them not to do something, no matter what the police said.
“Shit,” I whisper, taking her wrists, pulling her into me again.
She doesn’t ask what I mean.
She doesn’t need to.
Her forehead rests in the hollow between my shoulder and neck and her hands tangle in my shirt.
For a few heady seconds, we just stand there, filling the silence with thick, needy breaths.
“It’ll be fine,” she whispers again when I pull back.
