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My jaw tightens.
“Good.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Good?”
Ace nods toward the folder.
“You didn’t touch it.”
A small breath leaves me.
“No. I didn’t.”
His approval is quiet.
Steady.
And something inside me settles.
A few minutes later, I lock the shop door.
Flip the sign.
Closed.
For real this time.
I hesitate at the bottom of the stairs leading up to my apartment.
Then look back at him.
“You don’t have to stay,” I say.
It’s softer now.
Not pushing.
Just offering.
He doesn’t even pause.
“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”
My lips twitch.
“Right.”
Upstairs, my apartment feels the same.
Small. Simple. Lived-in.
Plants everywhere.
Safe.
Or at least—it used to be.
I set my keys on the counter.
