So for Simon, it had to have seemed like he was stepping into a world he wasn't meant to be a part of at first. Kind of like trying to join a conversation already in progress, never quite finding the rhythm.
But it had been years, and I still couldn't tell you much about him. The mystery only made the pull stronger.
It felt wrong to ask the others anything. They would have mistaken my curiosity for interest—though "mistake" was probably the wrong word. I definitely felt interested. More than interested, if I was being honest with myself in the privacy of my own head.
Since he'd never shown any emotion back, I let the crush die out. Or at least, I tried to. My workload overtook my life, drowning out my wants with the endless demands of case after case, client after client.
Only this last one stopped me in my tracks. This loss devastated me more than any before it, cutting deeper than I understood. And worst of all, I couldn't explain why.
Burnout.
The word came to mind, settling over me like a diagnosis. It would explain why I felt like I had to push myself over and over again in a fruitless endeavor. Eventually the body gives up, and I felt like mine had. I’d finally hit a wall I couldn't climb.
I took a deep breath as I shut the car off, climbing out of the cab. I took a minute to breathe the frosty air before traipsing toward the porch steps.
Simon stood there, hands in his coat pockets as he watched every step I took. The weight of his gaze made me hyperaware ofmy movements, of how I must look—rumpled and red-eyed and barely holding it together.
"Sorry if I woke you," I said once I was close enough to not have to yell.
He shook his head, looking me over with an intensity that made my skin warm despite the cold. "You didn't wake me. I was out checking on the horses and doing my rounds. Saw the lights."
He tipped his head toward my car.
I turned to look at it just as the automatic lights themselves shut off, plunging us into the softer glow of the porch lamp. When I turned back around, his gaze was on my face. He was searching and probably seeing far too much.
I felt as if he were looking into my soul.
The man's eyes were so piercing, the kind of brown that turned amber in certain light. I didn't want him to see everything, not yet, not when we weren't close. I still didn't know if I was going to explain everything to Sean and Atticus. They knew just how much I was working myself to the bone. They would demand I stay for a while longer than I really could afford to take.
Internally, I scoffed at myself. "Afford to take" was a funny phrase. I had money, an endless supply of it. I also had an endless supply of need to help others.
A need to be useful.
A need to matter.
I wanted to feel like I was worth something.
For me, that meant doing as many cases as I could fit in a year or two or ten. However long I was able-bodied.
"Can we go inside?" I asked Simon when the silence stretched too long and the cold started seeping through my coat.
He blinked as if coming back from somewhere far away, then nodded and turned. He opened the door and waved his hand asif to usher me in with a gesture that was somehow both casual and careful.
I stepped through, taking only a moment to clear the snow off my boots before slipping them off by the door. The warmth of the house hit me immediately, and I had to fight the urge to just sink to the floor right there.
Simon followed behind me, slipping his shoes off as well with quiet, efficient movements. I’d bet the man could sneak up on anyone. He was that fluid in each shift of his frame.
I looked around the first floor, letting the familiarity wash over me. Everything there reminded me of home—or what home should feel like. The warmth of the Coleman house emanated from every inch. The blankets and pillows draped over furniture, the cozy fire burning low in the hearth, the photo frames hanging on the walls.
All of it had culminated to a well-lived life.
A life full of love.
I moved further into the room to give Simon space to move around me. I figured he'd leave me to go get Sean or Atticus, to let them know I'd arrived and hand me off to someone better equipped to handle whatever this was.
Instead, he sat down on the couch and patted the space beside him.
My heart rate kicked back up again, having only just died down.
