Page 194 of His Reckoning

The weight of it sits squarely on my shoulders. A quiet breath leaves my chest.

She would’ve told me.

Wouldn’t she?

The doubt settles in.

I push off the wall and walk back into the living room. The book is still sitting on the couch.

Waiting.

I pick it up again, slower this time, before I flip to another section.

The hero is sitting alone, pushing everyone away. Convincing himself he doesn’t need anyone.

My chest tightens again.

Because this time, I don’t feel exposed. I feel … seen.

The realization hits hard enough that I shut the book again immediately.

“No.”

The word is sharper now, with more force behind it.

I toss the book back down and step away from it because that thought … that one’s dangerous. If that’s true—if she saw me like that—then everything I said to her …

I drag a hand down my face again.

I exhale hard. No. I shake my head once.

That’s not what this is. It can’t be. She doesn’t know me like that. Nobody does.

But the certainty isn’t there anymore.

I don’t think about calling Dean. My phone is just in my hand. His name already on the screen.

He answers on the second ring. “What did you do?”

I frown. “Why do you assume I did something?”

“Because you don’t call me at night unless you’ve either made a terrible decision or you’re about to.”

I huff out a quiet breath. “Good to know.”

“So, which one is it?” he asks.

“Already made it,” I say flatly.

There’s a pause.

“Oh, this should be good.”

I lean back against the counter, staring out into the empty apartment. “She left.”

Another pause.

“Define left.”