I take a deep breath, trying to sort through the mess of emotions churning inside me. “I don’t want to be the clingy girlfriend who holds you back from something important. That’s not who I am.”
“I know that.”
“But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared,” I admit. “I’m scared of what you’re walking into. Of not knowing where you are or what’s happening. Of getting a call I don’t understand, or worse, not getting one at all. Wejustfound each other again, Rowan.”
Selfishly, I want to beg him to forget the job, to stay herewhere I can touch him and see him and know he’s not going anywhere. At the same time, I also know what it’s like to want something for yourself, to need to prove you’re more than what people expect.
“I’m not leaving you,” he says. “This isn’t like before.”
“I know,” I whisper, but the words are hollow. No matter how different the circumstances, the result is the same. He’ll be gone, and I’ll be here, waiting.
Rowan gets up and comes around the table, kneeling beside my chair. He takes both my hands in his, and the warmth of his touch makes my eyes sting with tears I refuse to let fall.
“Look at me,” he says gently.
I do, though it takes everything in me.
“Thisisn’tlike before,” he repeats. “I’m not running away. I’m not leaving you behind. I’m just trying to build something here.”
Loving Rowan Wolfe has never been a safe choice. I’m not even sure it qualifies as a choice at all—it’s always been more like gravity, something I stepped into without realizing I was already falling. He holds the power that could break me completely, and still, I’ll keep making room in my life for him because the alternative is unbearable.
“When would you be leaving?” I ask.
“In a couple weeks.” He reaches across the table for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “We can make it work, Violet. I promise.”
There’s sincerity in his eyes. Determination. This isn’t the same man who left without saying goodbye all those years ago. I did six years without him. I can handle three weeks. Right?
“Okay,” I whisper, the word barely audible.
His eyes search mine, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Okay?”
“I don’t want to be the reason you don’t take this opportunity,” I say, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I won’t be that person.”
His eyes soften, and he reaches up to cup my face. “You’re not holding me back, Violet. You’re the reason I want to build something better.”
I lean into his touch, closing my eyes for just a moment. The warmth of his palm against my cheek steadies me, even as everything else is shifting beneath my feet.
I let out a sigh. “I don’t want to waste tonight being sad. Maybe you can make it up to me.”
A slow, crooked smile tugs at his mouth. “And how might I do that?”
“Probably pastries. And back rubs.”
“And what if I only have one of those things?”
“Well, I suppose it depends on which one.”
His hands slide to my hips. “I’m fresh out of pastries.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to be very convincing with that back rub.”
“I think I can manage that.” He stands in a flash, lifting me out of my chair in the process. I laugh softly as my legs lock around his waist, my arms looping around his neck as he carries me toward the stairs.
We make it into the bedroom, just the soft glow of the bedside lamp lighting the space. He lowers me to the bed gently.
“Roll over,” he commands softly.
I obey, turning onto my stomach as he settles beside me. His hands are warm as they slip under the hem of my shirt, pushing it up to expose my back.
