“You survive,” she said softly. “We all do.”
“My mom—she’s devastated. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“She just lost her husband,” Peyton said softly. “And you your father.” She fell silent, tears pooling in those beautiful gray eyes. “You don’t have to come tonight,” she continued. “I almost don’t even want to go. Maybe you should spend some time at home with Nina and your siblings.”
“Peyton,” I said, and something in my tone must have caught her off guard, because she pulled back, just a little bit, her eyes searching my face for something I knew she might not find.
“Korbin?”
“I—I think after this, I need some time to just … figure it all out,” I said, and Peyton frowned.
“Figure what out?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”
“My father.” I got to my feet, dropping her hand from mine, and crossed the floor to look out into the darkness around us. “He was just killed, Peyton, and I don’t know how my mother is going to survive this.”
“With our help,” Peyton said. She got to her feet and crossed the floor to join me, reaching a hand out to rest it gently on my arm. “And I’m here to help you, Korbin, because I love you.”
“And I love you,” I said, turning away from the window to face Peyton. I longed to take her into my arms and hold her until my arms ached and my soul felt complete again. “I love you,” I said again. “Which is why I have to do this.”
“Do what, Korbin?” she asked, and the fear in her voice put a sword through my heart. I dropped my head, and Peyton reached her hand out to lift my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes. “Do what?”
I pushed a breath of air between my teeth and turned away from Peyton, sitting back down on the bed. After a moment’s hesitation Peyton joined me again, but I could see her fingers trembling as she approached me.
“My father was killed in the line of duty,” I said, taking Peyton’s hands in mine. “And I’ve seen what it’s done to my family. To me. Ian and Isabella are leaving, and my mother will be alone.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Peyton,” I said, and her name caught in my throat. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go to Chicago right now. Not after this.”
“But, Korbin—”
“I can’t abandon her. I can’t abandon my mother in her time of need.” I sighed and rubbed my hand briskly over my face. “She’s going to be lost without him; I don’t know if she can survive.”
“Did Nina ask you to stay?” Peyton said quietly, and I shook my head.
“No. She'd probably smack me if she knew I was saying this.”
Peyton took a deep breath, focusing her eyes on the mirror in front of her. “Okay,” she said. “You’re right. We shouldn’t leave. We’ll stay here until we know she’s okay, get her stable, and then maybe someday we can think about going to Chicago.”
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. It was getting long, too long in my opinion, but I hadn’t had even a second’s moment to get it cut.
“I won’t do that to you,” I told her. “I won’t hold you back from your life just because I have to stay here now.”
“Korbin,” said Peyton, and the irritation was quickly rising in her throat. She glared at me, which made it even harder to face her. “I’m not leaving without you. I would rather stay.”
I knew she would stay, and that was the problem. Because this phenomenal woman would stop the world for me if she could, and I couldn’t be the man who made her do that.
“I can’t marry you,” I said, and even coming out of my mouth, the words felt like poison, acid burning up the lining of my throat. “I can’t go play big-time firefighter in Chicago, Peyton. Not anymore. But—but I want you to go. I won’t take this opportunity from you.”
“That’s not up to you.”
“But it is.”
The silence that followed rattled me to my core. Peyton stared at me, her hand dropping from my arm, eyes wide, as though maybe she hadn’t heard me right, but deep down she knew she had.
“You’re ending this?” she whispered, her voice catching, and I had to look away from her, at the floor, to hold myself together.
“I’m weeks away from being ready to take the fire department exam,” I told her softly. “I can get on here, in this Podunk town Eagle River, at least until I know my mom is okay. And I cannot—will not—ever put you through what my father just put us through.”
