She needed to move. To breathe. To feel like she had some agency in her own life again.
And she had no idea how much longer she could hold herself together before something inside her snapped.
chapter
thirty-nine
Caleb kickedthe mud off his boots before stepping into the house, the smell of something savory—soup, maybe—drifting from the kitchen.
As he rounded the corner into the dining area, he stopped short.
Millie sat at the table, a steaming bowl in front of her. She looked up when he entered, and for half a second, their eyes met.
Then she looked away.
It was much of the same interaction the two of them had since their almost kiss the night before.
“Hey,” he said, the word coming out more awkward than he intended.
“Hi.” Her voice was quiet.
The air between them felt thick, heavy, and edged with unspoken conversations.
Caleb cleared his throat and moved toward the kitchen, where Naomi was ladling soup into bowls. “Smells good.”
“I splurged for lunch and made some vegetable barley,” Naomi said with a smile. “Help yourself.”
As much as he’d like to eat right now, his mind remained on Millie. The tension.
He hated the tension between them. But he didn’t know how to fix it without making things worse.
He was getting hungry, but the last thing he wanted to do was to stay here and eat awkwardly with her.
Instead, he kept his voice casual as he reached for a bowl and said, “I’ll grab a little for now and come back for more later. I need to head out to install some trail cams around the property. I should have them up before dark.”
A chair scraped against the floor behind him. “Can I come with you?”
Caleb turned to find Millie on her feet, her expression both hopeful and desperate.
Had he heard her correctly? He knew he had.
He shook his head. “No, that’s a terrible idea.”
Her jaw visibly tightened. “Why?”
“Because there’s still a killer out there, Millie. Someone was murdered on this property.”
“I know.” Her voice was sharper now. “But I’m going stir-crazy in here. I need to move. I need to breathe.”
“You can breathe inside.”
“No, I can’t.” She crossed her arms, her eyes flashing. “Being outside has always been my refuge. It helps me feel like I’m still alive. I can’t just sit here day after day staring at walls like my life has no meaning anymore.”
Caleb set his bowl on the counter. He understood where she was coming from, but it was still a terrible idea. “It’s not safe.”
“We’d be together. You’d have your gun. I’ll stay close. I just—” She stopped, her voice catching. “I just need to get out of this house. Please.”
He studied her face. The strain around her eyes. The tightness in her shoulders.
