I shake my head. “No.”
“Liv-”
“If I stop,” I explain quietly, turning into the station. “I don’t know if I’ll start again.”
That’s the truth and we both know it.
Scott studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Then we do it right,” he says. “You don’t push past it. You work through it.”
I nod. Because that’s the only option I’m willing to accept.
I don’t realize how much I need normal until I’m back in my apartment that night. Until Pip curls up beside me as the silence of my apartment settles.
And for the first time all day, I can breathe.
A knock at the door pulls me out of the silence. I don’t even have to check. I know it’s him.
I just open the door.
Alex takes one look at me and his expression shifts.
“You went back to work,” he points out. Not a question.
“I didn’t stop.”
“How is it?”
“Messy.” Honest.
He steps inside closing the door behind him. “You don’t have to prove anything.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I look up at him. “And you’re not?” I counter.
A moment of silence then, “No.”
At least he doesn’t lie.
“You should rest,” he says.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Because when I stop moving, I think.”
His gaze softens slightly. “About the crash?”
“About everything.”
“Come here.”
I hesitate for the briefest moment just to give in suddenly. I step into him. His hands settle at my waist, steady and grounding. And for the first time since before the crash, I feel something other than grief.
He’s warmth and relief. And something dangerous.
