Finally, Fox shifted and glanced at his twin. “Come on,” he said evenly. “Let’s go.”
August’s eyes lingered on the charred frame for another long second before he gave a short nod.
We turned and started back toward our childhood home, but someone grabbed hold of my shoulder, stopping me.
I frowned, glancing back at Graham.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.
August, Fox, and Reid hesitated, too, but I waved them on.
“We’ll catch up,” I told them.
When our brothers were out of earshot, I turned to Graham. My spine was rigid, though I had been trying my damn best to cover up the anxiety that had been coursing through me.
Graham noticed things most people didn’t. He was always reading people, dissecting their emotions and the reason behind their actions. It was what made him so good at his job as a forensic psychologist.
“You going to tell me what’s going on?” Graham asked.
“With what in particular?” I challenged.
“Palmer.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What about her? She’s my nanny.”
He shot me a look that said he wasn’t buying it. “A nanny doesn’t sacrifice everything, including her job, to run into the middle of danger. It’s obvious she cares for you.” He tilted his head. “Do you care for her too?”
My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know what to tell him.
Needing to think, I stared off to the side, the cold air making my nose run. I sniffed. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s been a long time, Roman,” Graham continued, his voice soft with cautious understanding. “It’s okay if you like her.”
I let out an empty laugh. “No,” I shook my head, “I’m not sure that it is.”
How did I begin to explain the mess that was Palmer and me? Where did I even start?
“What do you mean by that?”
I forced myself to refocus on my brother. His expression was mostly neutral, but there was a sliver of confused curiosity.
I thought about lying, of telling him I didn’t want her so bad I was weak in the knees. He would be able to tell, though. He could sense a lie.
Inhaling the sharp winter air, I told him the truth. He remained very still as I recalled the night of the dorm fire, how I had left Jess alone to go help. It all spilled out, my guilt and shame for leaving, and my confusion about knowing that Palmer was a woman I had saved.
When I was done, I was exhausted. I pushed a hand through my hair and my forehead was damp with sweat despite the cold.
Silence stretched.
Then Graham exhaled slowly. “Roman,” he said quietly, “you didn’t leave Jess for Palmer.”
I gritted my teeth. Hearing the words out loud stung like a lash across the face.
“You responded to a fire,” he continued. “You did your job, and Jess understood that. She told you to go.”
“I know that,” I muttered.
“Do you?” Graham asked. “Because it seems like you’re turning that night into something that it wasn’t.”
