My phone buzzes on the coffee table. A text from my mother.
Mom: Have you reconsidered? It’s not too late to fix this.
I show Sawyer the message. His jaw tightens. My phone feels hot in my hand.
“She’s not going to stop,” I say quietly.
“I know.”
“She’s going to keep trying to destroy you until I give her what she wants.”
“Then she’s going to be disappointed.”
I look at him, this man who’s willing to risk everything for me, and I feel that familiar mix of gratitude and terror. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s right. Because—” He pauses, then reaches for my hand. “Because I care about you too much to watch you get bullied into giving up.”
“You’re too good of a guy to have this happen to you.”
“Ali, if I let them intimidate me into abandoning you, what kind of man does that make me? What kind of cop?”
I know he’s right, but the guilt is overwhelming. “I hate that you’re paying the price for my mess.”
“This isn’t your mess. This is Lance’s mess. Your mother is just helping him make it worse.”
My phone buzzes again.
Mom: Alice, please. Think about what you’re doing to everyone.
Everyone. Not me. Never what's being done to me.
I push my glasses up my nose. I stare at the message, then delete it without responding.
“What if we lose?” I ask quietly.
“What if we win?”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is simple. We tell the truth. We trust that the evidence will speak for itself.”
I lean against him, feeling the solid warmth of his shoulder. “Promise me something.”
“What?”
“If this gets completely out of hand, if it looks like you’re going to lose everything, promise me you’ll walk away. I don’t care how hard it is. You need to walk away.” I adjust my glasses, not meeting his eyes.
Sawyer pulls back to look at me. His dark brown eyes are steady, certain. “I’m not making that promise.”
“Sawyer—”
“Ali, I’m not walking away from you. Not for your mother, not for Lance’s family, not for anyone.”
My eyes sting. I blink hard.
“But—”
“No buts. I mean it.”
