“Are you fucking kidding me?” I roar at a box and hit her in the chest. “You are telling me she has been leaking information to you for all those years?” She is a fucking mole?!?!”
“I thought you knew,” she says carelessly.
“You fucking didn’t! You waited until NOW to tell me? You had countless times to tell me! Why fucking now?”
My mind explodes as I realize she might have paid Rachel to befriend me?—
“Did you make her?—?”
“No,” she says, and her eyes narrow. “That happened after you two were, you know?—“
I box her again.
“If you box me one more time, I am going to push you back into that elevator, choke you, and finger you until you can’t spell your own name anymore,” she says.
How dare she try to make this sexual?
“I hate you!” I shout at her.
“No, you don’t,” she says.
“I do! Because you are driving me CRAZY!”
“And you love it,” she says, brushes through my hair, pushes my head back, and kisses me.
“Your love language is sacrificing yourself for me; mine is annoying you as much as possible.”
“I hate you,” I mumble against her lips, as she does not stop kissing me, and pushes me into the garage wall.
“But you also love me,” she says.
“Unfortunately, I do,” I say with a growl.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she asks, pushes herself off me, and walks to my car. “Come on,” she says, “We have a painting to steal.”
She stands at the car and grins broadly.
Maybe it’s this moment where I see the delight shimmering in her eyes that I understand what she sacrificed for me when she stopped stealing and truly worked for and with me.
She gave up a part of herself for me.
A fact that makes me sadder than anything else, because if she had required me to give up being an agent—and she might have me one day investigate when I fail a routine polygraph, and they start an investigation into me—the thought of it makes me nervous every day.
I sit in the car, and she is in the passenger seat.
“What’s up?” she asks and turns to me.
“Nothing,” I say.
“Shaw,” she says warningly.
I roll my eyes.
“It’s just—“ I begin. “I’m sorry you had to give up what makes you happy.”
She chuckles, shakes her head, and one corner of her mouth tugs up knowingly as she leans over and grasps my face.
“You make me happy,” she says, “Nothing else matters.”
