She made a slight sound in her sleep, curling closer. I pulled the quilt up over her shoulder, my palm resting there, and stared out the window at the shifting light.
I’d do whatever it took to keep this safe.
To keephersafe.
Even if it meant lying here in the quiet, holding her, and waiting for the world outside that door to give us a reason to stop hiding.
She slept for almost forty minutes, long enough for the sun to slide to its afternoon angle, pouring pale gold through the curtains. I let her sleep longer, even though she’d told me not to. She needed it more than she realized.
When I finally brushed my hand over her arm and murmured her name, she blinked awake slowly, confusion softening into recognition.
“What time is it?” she asked, her voice rough with sleep.
“Just after two.”
Her eyes widened, and she pushed herself up on one elbow. “Crap. The girls will be home soon.”
I sat up with her, the quilt falling to our waists, and watched as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. The light caught in her hair, making it shine, but there was still a heaviness in her movements—like every muscle was remembering the weight she carried.
“You’re still tired,” I said quietly.
“I’m fine.” She reached for her jeans draped over the chair and found her shirt on the floor. “I just need to get myself together before they get home. I’ve got work tonight.”
“Paige…” I started, but she gave me a small smile over her shoulder, more like an apology than reassurance.
“They’ll be fine. Grandpa will be here soon to hang out with them while I’m at work.”
“I know they’ll be fine,” I said, watching her pull her hair into a messy knot that was already spilling loose again. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
She paused, clothes gathered in her arms, one hand on her bathroom door. “I can’t stop, Hunter. Not right now.”
I nodded, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch her keep putting herself last. “I get it. I’m just worried about you, is all.”
Her voice softened. “I have to make sure you understand. I’m with you. You know that, right? But I just can’t—” she gestured vaguely between us, “—I’m not ready for the whole town to have an opinion about my personal life. Not with Eli playing games.”
“I know. I understand.” Her repeated words landed harder than I expected, but I kept my face neutral. “I get it.”
Her eyes searched mine, like she wanted to be sure I meant it. Then she leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my mouth. “Thank you for being here.”
She slipped into the bathroom. I found my clothes and quickly dressed.
By the time she came back out and slipped her arms into her jacket and grabbed her bag, I was on my feet, following her into the hallway. Outside, I could hear the faint rumble of a school bus a few blocks away, and I knew the house was about to get loud.
I stood there, hands in my pockets, watching her get ready to greet her girls—still exhausted, still carrying more than anyone should, and still determined to handle it all herself.
And I knew, without question, that something had to give.
The rumble of the bus grew louder, brakes squealing faintly before the sound of voices spilled into the quiet street. She moved toward the front door, tucking her hair behind her ear like she didn’t want the girls to guess she’d just woken up from a nap.
Lark was the first through the door, her backpack sliding off one shoulder. She paused, glancing between us. “Hey, Hunter.” Her voice carried that sly, sixteen-year-old knowing.
“Hey, Lark. How was school?”
She shrugged and told me it was fine. Then she kicked off her shoes and disappeared toward her room.
Briar followed, her pink knit hat slipping down over one eye. “Hi,” she said brightly to me before turning to her mom. “Can I go over to Mia’s after dinner?”
“Maybe,” Paige said. “But only if Grandpa feels like taking you and picking you up.”
