“There’s a first time for everything.”
River eyes bore into mine, trying to read what I’m not saying. “Who is she?” He asks.
“No one.”
The lie tastes wrong the second it leaves my mouth, and from the look on River’s face, he knows it too.
“No one,” he repeats slowly, stepping further into my office. “You don’t bring ‘no one’ into our home, Echo. You don’t miss work for ‘no one.’ And you sure as hell don’t look like you’ve been put through hell for ‘no one’.”
I clench my jaw and glare at him, refusing to give him anything.
He studies me and I can see him trying to piece it together. “I’m worried about you,” he says finally, sounding as exhausted as I feel.
That catches me off guard, and for a second I don’t know what to say. River can be overbearing, and he doesn’t always understand the way my mind works, but he’s never been worried about me. Not like this, at least. “Why?”
“You’ve been different for weeks now. Distracted. Making mistakes.” He shifts his weight. “Briggs told me about the interrogation. Said you weren’t focused. Said someone almost got away because you were in your head.”
My jaw tightens. “We handled it.”
“Barely.” He moves towards me, but there’s no threat in his advance, just concern. “That’s not you, Echo. You don’t make mistakes. You don’t lose focus. You don’t bring people here.” He pauses. “So, really, what’s going on? What is she to you?”
Everything.
Nothing I can explain.
“I’m handling it,” I say instead.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the one you’re getting.”
River exhales slowly. “You didn’t check in last night. Athena was worried sick. She thought something happened to you.”
Fuck. I should’ve called. I usually do when I know I’m not coming home, just so they don’t assume the worst.
“She told me you haven’t been sleeping,” River continues. “That you’ve been disappearing at all hours. That you treat your phone like it’s a lifeline.” He pauses, and his voice drops. “This girl, whoever she is, she’s got you twisted up in a way I’ve never seen before.”
“I said I’m handling it.”
“Are you?” He crosses his arms. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re barely holding it together. And that scares the shit out of me.”
I clench my jaw and swallow.
“Look,” River says, his voice softening slightly. “If you care about her?—”
“I do.” The words are out before I can stop them. “I care about her more than I should. More than is smart. More than—” I cut myself off, running a hand through my hair. “Fuck.”
River goes quiet, and when I look up, there’s understanding in his eyes.
“How bad is it?” He asks quietly.
“Bad enough that I can’t think straight when she’s around. Bad enough that I haven’t slept in weeks because I’m too busy making sure she’s safe. Bad enough that—” Istop, because the rest of that sentence is too much, even for him. Bad enough that I’d blow my whole life up if it meant keeping her alive.
“Echo—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” I cut him off. “That it’s a liability. That caring about someone makes you weak. That I need to get my head straight before it gets us all killed.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
