“In the morning, why don’t we call a professional, see if they can clean it up?” he suggested. Micah wasn't sure even a professional could get the paint out of the carpet, but he was willing to try if it helped Teresa.
“I can do it myself.” She huffed, tugging her hands free.
“You can't,” he said, gently but firmly. Letting her come back home had been a mistake. She wasn't in the right mental headspace to handle it. But he wasn't the boss of her, and he couldn’t outright refuse. She wasn't a prisoner. He would just feel a whole hell of a lot better having her tucked safely away at Prey.
“Can so.” Angry fire danced defiantly in the chocolate brown eyes that stared back at him.
There wasn't just defiance there, though.
Unshed tears shimmered in Teresa’s eyes.
His heart ached to find a way to make this better for her. In this moment, he didn't care about the past, about the pain she’d caused him, she was hurting, and there was a part of him—a bigger part than he’d admitted to himself—that still loved her.
“We need to take a break. How about we cook some dinner, and then we can try again. Together,” he offered, willing her totake the olive branch he was offering and meet it with one of her own.
If they could talk through the past, maybe they stood a chance.
At what he didn't know yet.
All Micah knew was that his feelings for this woman weren't as dead as he’d pretended they were all these years.
“Cook,” she echoed softly, the defiance seeping out of her gaze, replaced with something he didn't like. Something that looked like defeat.
That was not the Teresa he knew. That Teresa had stepped up when her dad died and supported her family every way she knew how, despite her young age. That Teresa had never met a problem she wouldn't attack with logic and reason until she figured it out.
But the Teresa before him looked dangerously broken.
“I know you love cooking, but if you're too tired or in too much pain, then I can make something,” he suggested. He was nowhere near as good a cook as Teresa was, but then again, he’d never enjoyed it the same way she had. Cooking for her family was the one chore that she’d actually enjoyed back when he’d known her, and she was always experimenting with something new.
With a desperate shake of her head, she dropped the towel and staggered to her feet, knocking the bucket beside her. It sloshed some water onto the already ruined carpet, but Teresa didn't appear to notice.
“Not hungry,” she mumbled. “I'm going to go take a shower and try to get some sleep.”
Snatching up the bag of clothes, toiletries, and the air mattress they’d picked up on the way back from Prey, she hurried out of the room, leaving him staring after her, wondering what had just happened.
Obviously, he’d said something that had upset her, he just didn't know how suggesting they eat some dinner had done it.
This Teresa was different from the one he’d known, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by that, given the amount of time that had passed since they’d been together. There was a hardness to her that hadn't been there before. She’d always been a bit of a softie, someone people could easily take advantage of because she wanted to help, wanted to ease their burdens, even if that meant adding to her own.
Now she still had that same heart, but it had been cooled somewhat. She was able to find emotional detachment as she worked, he’d seen it today and been struck by the fact that the teenage version of Teresa would never have been able to handle this job.
What had changed her?
And why did he feel so compelled to fix whatever it was and bring back her softness, when he’d already been burned by Teresa before?
Walking away should be easy, yet Micah was finding it impossible.
CHAPTER 5
April 30th
6:30 A.M.
She wasready to put this mess behind her and move on.
While there was no way to pretend that her home hadn't been trashed beyond repair, Teresa was ready to accept that this wasn't something she could just fix.
The future was uncertain.
