The words land heavier than I intended. Nadia's smile fades into something more searching.
"Callum..."
"I know." I brush a braid back from her face. "We don't have to talk about it. Let's just get through today."
She nods, but something in her expression tells me we're both thinking the same thing. That getting through today means getting closer to the end. That every hour together is also an hour less.
I kiss her forehead and extract myself from the bed before I do something stupid like ask her to stay.
The morning passes in comfortable domesticity that makes the dangerous feeling worse. I plow the driveway while she showers. She makes coffee while I clean up. We eat breakfast together at the kitchen island, her feet hooked around the rungs of my barstool while she scrolls through her phone and reads me the most unhinged messages from her family group chat.
"My aunt Patricia wants to know if you have a brother. She's very interested in the timber industry apparently."
"Tell her all three brothers are single. All terrified of women like your aunt Patricia."
"Smart men." She grins at her phone. "Oh, this is good. My cousin Marcus is bringing his new girlfriend and my mom is already worried she's a gold digger because she asked what kind of wine would be served at the reception."
"The audacity. Wanting to know about wine at a wine country wedding."
"Right? My family is insane." She sets down her phone and looks at me. "Fair warning, they're going to be a lot. My parents will be passive aggressive with each other all night. My sister will be stressed and taking it out on everyone. And someone will definitely make a comment about my job situation because keeping secrets in the Smith family is physically impossible."
"I can handle your family."
"You say that now."
"Nadia." I wait until she meets my eyes. "I've spent twenty two years managing a timber company, three younger brothers, and every busybody in Crimson Hollow who thinks they know what's best for me. Your family doesn't scare me."
"What does scare you?"
The question catches me off guard. I consider deflecting, giving her something easy and surface level. But we're past that now. Whatever this is between us, it deserves honesty.
"Losing people. Letting someone close enough that losing them would break something." I hold her gaze. "I've gotten very good at keeping people at arm's length. It's easier that way."
"Lonelier though."
"Lonelier," I agree. "But safer."
She's quiet, processing. Then she slides off her stool and crosses to stand between my knees, her hands coming up to rest on my shoulders.
"I'm scared of the same thing. Of letting someone in and having them decide I'm too much. Too demanding. Too difficult." Her fingers trace the line of my jaw. "Everyrelationship I've had, I've been waiting for them to leave. So I push first. Test them. Make it impossible so I can blame them when it falls apart."
"Self-fulfilling prophecy."
"Exactly." She leans in and presses her lips to mine. Soft. Sweet. Nothing like the hungry kisses we've shared in the playroom. "I don't want to do that with you. Whatever this is, however long it lasts, I don't want to be the one who ruins it."
I pull her closer, settling her against my chest. "You're not going to ruin anything."
"You don't know that."
"I know you." I tip her chin up. "I've seen you surrender and I've seen you fight and I've seen you cry in my arms because you felt safe enough to let go. That's not a woman who ruins things. That's a woman who's been waiting for someone strong enough to hold on."
Her eyes are bright, suspiciously close to tears. "That's a very romantic thing to say for a fake relationship."
"Maybe it's not that fake anymore."
The words hang there, undeniable. She doesn't look away.
"Maybe it's not," she whispers.
