“No,” I repeat, louder now, backing away like distance will make it less real. “No, that’s not possible.”
“It is,” he breathes out.
“No, it’s not,” I insist. “He’s not- He can’t be.”
“Just one time with your mother, that’s all it took. We don’t know if they hooked up or were in a relationship.”
My chest squeezes too tightly. Like I can’t get enough air. “She said she didn’t know who he was. She said- She…” I shake my head.
“Liv…”
“No,” I whisper, my voice sounding broken. This changes everything, everything I thought I knew about myself. About where I came from, about why I’ve always felt like something didn’t quite fit. “No,” I assert again, but it’s weaker this time. Less certain and more… broken.
“I wouldn’t lie to you about this,” he says.
I look at him and something in me hardens.
“You already did,” I say.
It’s true, and no matter what comes out of his mouth now, it’s all built on something he took without asking.
“You don’t get to tell me you wouldn’t lie to me, not after this.”
“I didn’t lie,” he argues. “I just-”
“Withheld?” I cut him off. “Manipulated? Violated?”
His jaw sets like stone. “I was trying to protect you.”
“There it is again,” I say bitterly. “That excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“It is when you use it to justify breaking every boundary I have,” I fire back. “The driver, the protocols, the way you’ve been watching me like I’m something you need to control-”
“I’m not trying to control you,” he snaps.
“You are,” I shoot back. “You just don’t want to call it that.”
“I did this because you’re in danger,” he counters, his voice lower now, more intense. “Because the man we’re hunting isn’t just some random target; he’s tied you in a way we didn’t understand before.”
“And that makes it okay?” I demand.
“No.”
“Then what does it make it?” I push.
“Necessary.”
That makes something in me crack. I shake my head slowly. “God,” I breathe. “You really believe that don’t you?”
“I believe you being alive matters more than how I got the information,” he says.
“And I believe I deserve autonomy over my own body,” I shoot back. “Even if it makes your job harder.”
We’re both breathing heavier now, standing too close and yet also too far apart.
“You think I wanted to do this?” he asks. “You think this was easy?”
