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“For how long?”

“Like, a few years?”

“What?” He laughs.

“I want to be together when the baby comes. I want to be with you.”

He shuts his eyes, his face barely moving as he murmurs, “Where do you think we could go?”

“Spain or Portugal? Italy? The Baltic Sea? Even Iceland—that would be amazing.”

When he opens his eyes, they look wary. “What about your job, la mia rosa?”

“Well…I would resign.”

“For what reason?”

“I wouldn’t say. But we could start a rumor—any rumor. I could even say I’ve been trying to conceive for years. And now I did, and I want to be present for that. People would probably think Jace was the dad. Unless they knew me well, and then who cares? It’s my life. Ours,” I correct.

“Have you been trying?” he asks.

“No, of course not. It’s a lie. You know, for the press.”

“But you won an election, rosa. I saw you give your speech.” He’s frowning deeply. “You were happy.”

“No I wasn’t. I was proud. There’s a difference. I wasn’t unhappy, but this job is me keeping myself occupied. I ran because…well, in part, Ree wanted to run a campaign.” I laugh, feeling somewhat foolish. “She thought I would make a good D.A. Remember, they’re the betas, and I’m just the goldfish. But I wanted it. I did. And now I want to have our baby, and I want to be with you.”

He blinks, looking puzzled and then dismayed.

“Don’t you even think about telling me I’m a failed feminist. Or something about women in the workforce.”

He looks aghast and affronted. “I’m no mansplainer.”

My eyes well. “Would you think it, though? That I’m a failure? I know other people might.”

He smooths my hair back. “Rosa, what would you think? That’s the only thing that matters. Let me tell you something: I can wait for you. I can do…whatever you want. I could be your live-in husband…and only leave in disguise.”

“Would you leave your job?” I ask him.

“I’ll find a way. Like you”—he shuts his eyes, as if he’s tired—“I was just passing time.”

“Would people come after the others on your…erm, team…if you left? Given what happened with Aren?”

“Probably not. If I left…I would be viewed as weak. Like I went into hiding or skipped town.” He swallows, his eyes peeking open. “Alesso or Leo would take over. Or there’s some other guys. Ant or Lisa.”

“Is Lisa really a guy?”

He smiles. “Girl. A woman.”

“You could just leave?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that. But the Armenians…lashed out already. My car got stolen. I just checked my texts…Alesso told me. And these two warehouses Aren knew about…are burning. Our warehouses.”

“Oh my God.”

“Someone lit them on fire.”

“Is one of them that Queens location?”

He nods. “That’s where we would do the pink ops.”

“Is it? That’s why you said if I’m looking at that, I need to talk to someone at the FBI.”

He nods again.

“Some people there really knew what you were up to?”

“Just one or two. The main one…had a baby.” He frowns. “That’s why she wasn’t there to intervene…when the Aren stuff happened.” I watch as he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “How do you feel?” he asks softly.

“I’m okay. I should be asking you that.”

He quirks a brow, and I watch him scoot to the bed’s edge. I’m going to ask if he needs help getting up, but he stands before I can. “I should go,” he murmurs, swaying slightly. “Let you think.”

“Think about what?” I sit up, frowning.

He shuts his eyes, grabbing onto Ree’s desk chair. “You can’t work…because of me. I’m still the guy…you’re not allowed to date.” He looks pale.

“Okay, but that’s not by your choice.”

“I almost got you and the baby…killed.” His voice goes low and throaty on that word, and pain twists his face. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head once, pressing his forehead to his arm. “I just…don’t know.”

“So what are you saying?” My voice wobbles.

“You should think about…letting Jace claim the baby. And keep your job.” He lifts his head slightly, looking at me. “At least…until your term is over. We can be together later.”

I can’t even speak for a long moment. I realize my mouth is hanging open, and I shut it. “Is that how you really feel? That it could wait between us?”

He presses his lips flat. “Well…it’s logical.”

“Would you continue being in your line of work?”

“I don’t know.” His gaze falling to the floor. “I’d have to transition.”

“You said it’s going to be dangerous. In the hospital stairwell. You said the Armenians would start a war.”

His gaze slides to mine as his lips twitch. “I was high on morphine.”

“You said you wanted me.” I swallow hard, so I don’t break down.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re adults. Sometimes what we want…doesn’t work.”

“I don’t want this life. I want to be with you.” My pulse surges. I start scooting toward the bed’s edge—if I can hold him, I know I can soothe whatever cold feet he has—but he’s moving toward the door.

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