When we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine.
"We should eat breakfast," he says. "Then I need to do a full security sweep. And you need to review your testimony notes."
"Way to kill the mood."
"The mood will still be there tonight. Right now, we have work to do."
He's right. The trial is coming. The Castellanos are still out there. We can't lose ourselves in each other so completely that we forget the danger.
But as I watch him move around the kitchen, scrambling eggs with the same efficiency he brings to everything, I let myself imagine a future. A real one. Where we're not hiding, not running, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. A future where I wake up to this man every morning not because I have to, but because I choose to.
It's a fantasy. I know it's a fantasy. But it's one I'm starting to believe might actually come true.
The security sweeptakes most of the morning.
Deck insists on checking every sensor, every camera, every inch of the perimeter. I go with him, partly because I want to be useful and partly because I can't stand the thought of being away from him right now. We hike in companionable silence, stopping occasionally for him to examine equipment or point out potential vulnerabilities.
"This is where they'd come from," he says at one point, gesturing toward a ravine to the east. "Natural cover, difficult terrain that would slow a response. If the Castellanos send anyone, this is the most likely approach vector."
"You sound almost excited about it."
"Not excited. Prepared." He scans the tree line with practiced eyes.
"You've said that before."
"It bears repeating." He adjusts one of the cameras, angling it slightly to cover a blind spot. "Being prepared means I've already thought through the scenarios. I know where they'll come from, how they'll approach, what tactics they'll use. When it happens, I won't be reacting. I'll be executing a plan."
"When, not if?"
"The Castellanos don't give up. They've sent two hit squads already. The only question is whether they find us before the trial or after."
"After would be too late. I'll have already testified."
"Which is why they're motivated to find us before." He turns to face me. "I'm not telling you this to scare you. I'm telling youbecause you need to understand the situation. We're in a holding pattern right now. Sooner or later, something's going to break."
"And when it does?"
"When it does, you do exactly what we've trained. You follow the protocols. You trust me to handle the threat." He cups my face in his hands. "And you remember that I love you, and I will do anything to keep you safe."
"Anything?"
"Anything." He kisses me briefly. "Now let's finish the sweep. I want to be back at the cabin before the afternoon clouds roll in."
We complete the perimeter check and return to the cabin just as the sky begins to darken. December in the mountains means early sunsets and unpredictable weather, and the clouds gathering on the horizon look like they're carrying snow.
Inside, Deck builds up the fire while I make lunch. The domestic rhythm of it has become familiar over the past two weeks. Comfortable. Like we've been doing this for years instead of days.
"Can I ask you something?" I set a sandwich in front of him and take my seat across the table.
"You're going to anyway."
"What happens after the trial? Assuming everything goes well. Assuming Dominic is convicted and the threat is neutralized."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what do you want to happen? With us. With this." I gesture between us. "I know we said one day at a time, but I'm having trouble not thinking ahead."
He takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly. Thinking.
