Before I get too attached.
Before I make the mistake of thinking these men would fight for us.
I blink away tears and push to my feet, my movements mechanical as I pull the girls’ small suitcases from the closet. I tell myself I’m just preparing. That I haven’t actually made the decision yet.
But deep down, I know. I’ve already made up my mind.
Emma and Ella shuffle into the room, their small feet barely making a sound against the wooden floor. I freeze, my hands tightening around the zipper of one of their tiny suitcases.
“What are you doing here, Mom?” Emma asks, her sleepy eyes blinking at the half-packed bag beside me.
I try to smile, though my face feels like it might crack under the weight of it. “Come here, baby.” I reach for them, pulling them both onto my lap, pressing my cheek against their soft hair. Their warmth seeps into me, making it harder to breathe. Harder to follow through with what I know I have to do.
“We need to go, sweetie,” I whisper. “Time for another adventure.”
Ella snuggles closer, but Emma stiffens. “Leaving the secret agents?” she asks, her voice small, uncertain. Her lower lip trembles, and my heart shatters into a million pieces.
“Yes, baby,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I stroke her hair, trying to soothe her even as I can feel her tiny fingers curling into my shirt, clinging to me like she can keep us here if she just holds on tight enough.
Ella’s arms wrap around my waist, her face pressing into my chest. “But I like them,” she murmurs, and fresh guilt twists inside me. “Damon. Asher. Zane. They’re friends now.”
“I know, baby,” I say, closing my eyes for a second, trying to find the strength I need. “I know it’s hard, but sometimes we have to do hard things to stay safe.”
Their sobs start, tearing at me, their small bodies trembling against mine. I hold them tighter, kissing the tops of their heads, breathing them in. I leave them in their bedroom, reassuring them that we’ll depart tomorrow and to get good sleep tonight.
I can’t do this. But I have to do this.
In my room, I force my hands to move, zipping up the bags, each sound cutting through me like a knife. My girls need me tobe strong, to protect them, to do whatever it takes to keep them safe.
Even if it means breaking all of our hearts.
The zipper stutters as I pull it closed, like even my suitcase knows this is a mistake. My hands won’t stop shaking, but I keep going. One more shirt shoved inside. One last breath before I go.
“—and Asher’s taking first shift, so we’ll?—”
Damon’s voice cuts off. I freeze, my back still to him. I don’t have to look to know what he sees.
Silence stretches between us before he finally speaks, his voice tight. “What’s going on?”
I swallow hard. “Do you know Asher’s leaving?”
A beat of silence. “He hasn’t told me yet.”
I nod.Of course he hasn’t.I press my fingers to my eyes, willing the sting away. “Maybe it’s better if I leave, too.”
Damon moves closer. I hear it before I feel it—the quiet shift of his boots against the floorboards. He stops just behind me, close enough that his warmth seeps into my spine. “Mia,” he says quietly.
“I don’t want things to get any worse.” My voice is thin, stretched tight like a wire about to snap. “I should have shut this down the moment I knew it was you.”
There’s a sharp exhale, then his fingers brush my elbow, the lightest touch, like he’s afraid I’ll pull away.
“Don’t do that,” he murmurs.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t do what? Face reality?”
I turn then, and his expression knocks the air from my lungs. There’s frustration, guilt, and something deeper I don’t want to name.
“Look around, Damon.” I gesture vaguely, my hands unsteady. “Asher’s leaving. Zane barely looks at me. And you…”
