“You are. I can see it in the way you look at me sometimes, like you want to say something but can’t. Like there’s something you’re trying to protect.”
Her shoulders sag slightly. “Maybe I’m trying to protect myself.”
“From what?”
“From compounding the same mistake twice.”
The admission hangs in the air between us. She returns to polishing with renewed focus, but she’s maintaining only tenuous control.
“Was it a mistake four years ago or eleven weeks ago?” I move close enough that she’d have to look at me if she turned around.
She doesn’t turn though. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it complicated everything and led to...” She trails off, shaking her head.
“Led to what?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
I can tell it does matter though. Whatever happened after that night, whatever consequences she faced, they’re still affecting her decisions now. They’re the reason she’s so guarded and afraid of letting this connection develop into something more.
“Danielle…?” I reach for her, but she steps away.
“I really do need to finish this.”
“Fine.” I head toward the door, then pause. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. It’s not.”
Before it can degenerate to a toddler-level back and forth of squabbling, I leave her to her work, but the exchange stays with me as I return to my office. She’s hiding something significant that goes beyond simple self-preservation or job security. The question is whether I’m prepared to push hard enough to uncover it. If I do, will she let me help her carry whatever burden she’s shouldering alone when she’s made it clear she wants nothing from me if I’m still in dangerous business?
She’s stated what she wants, but the connection between us grows stronger every time we’re in the same room. She can build all the walls she wants, but eventually, they’ll come down.
When they do, what will I find on the other side? Impatiently, I reach for my phone, planning to tell Andrei to dig up all hersecrets, but I hesitate. This feels like something I should do on my own, privately. I want to wait for her to open to me, but that seems unrealistic. She’s obviously hiding something important to her, so I shouldn’t open her up to scrutiny from anyone but me.
I doubt she’ll appreciate me going bloodhound on her, but I have to know what’s keeping the barrier between us. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life to have her surrender to the pull between us without trying to fight or deny it, and that means learning everything I can.
11
Danielle
Iwake up with the memory of Radmir’s hands still burning on my skin. The morning light feels too bright, too cheerful for the mess I’ve made of my life. Again.
Leo is already awake in his room, chattering to his stuffed dinosaur about something involving rockets and cookies. The sound of his voice usually makes me smile but today, it just reminds me of everything from which I’m trying and failing to protect him.
I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the scent of Radmir’s cologne that seems to linger on my skin no matter how hard I scrub. The memory of yesterday’s encounter in the linen closet plays on repeat in my mind. I can’t forget the way he looked at me like I was something precious and how his voice went rough when he said my name. I completely lost control despite every promise I’d made to myself.
Twenty minutes later, I’m dressed and making Leo’s breakfast when Carmen’s familiar knock echoes through the apartment. I open the door to find her holding two coffee cups and wearing the expression of someone who knows exactly what kind of conversation we’re about to have.
“I had a feeling you could use this.” She hands me one of the cups as she steps inside and looks at me for a second. “Rough night?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“You look like you haven’t slept, and you’re moving like every muscle in your body is sore.” She settles at my kitchen table while I pour milk over Leo’s cereal. “Want to talk about it?”
