Page 62 of The Promise

“I know he’s only trying to help, and I’m grateful but ...”

“Who asked you to be grateful—to thank him, or us? I’m not saying this because any of us expect anything from you, Karine. I’m saying it so you’ll see what I mean. Everything Roman does, he’s doing for your sake. Even if you don’t like it. Nobody said you had to.”

Well.

Claire didn’t offer the truth harshly, but there it was. All the same. The former lump in Karine’s throat had now settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. Despite how much she hated the reality of the day, it still stared at her right in the face. There was no looking away.

“I don’t want to regret this tomorrow,” she murmured.

“Then go speak to him today,” Claire added. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over all these years ... well, they will make mistakes. Even if they are perfect for us, they’re still human, too. And they’ll crawl through glass if they have to—to come back to us, they will. If they have to.”

Karine knotted her fingers together, glancing at the open door. Claire hadn’t closed it, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was by design. “I’m not too late, am I?”

“You’re not. He wouldn’t leave without seeing you,” Claire replied.

FOURTEEN

By the time Karine stood in front of Roman’s bedroom door on the third floor, she had a moment where she wanted to turn away. Not knowing if he was actually inside, not wanting to be wrong ... she almost didn’t knock.

Claire claimed he wouldn’t leave without seeing her, but Karine couldn’t say for sure. Still, she shoved down the fear, knocked on the door, and waited. Before she could consider turning away a second time, the door pulled open and she faced a very tired Roman.

“Karine,” he said, eyes heavy-lidded like he hadn’t slept a wink. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to let me say goodbye, babe.”

Yeah.

Her, too.

She stepped past him into the room, heart thundering the whole way, and he shut the door behind her. Just the sound of the latch closing them in sent a delicious thrill down her spine.

They were alone.

The world was gone.

Everything was perfect again.

She kept her back to him, refusing to look at him while she said the words she had come to say. It just made it easier.

“I shouldn’t have shut you out. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you’re doing something wrong,” she said.

She kept a steady voice, but barely. She had to be strong, get the words out, and go from there. That’s what she kept telling herself, even if it was terrifying.

Roman let out a heavy sigh, and she heard his palm rub against his beard. “I wish I could explain everything to you, Karine, but I don’t have the time or all the answers except to say I don’t really have a choice at the moment. You’re going to have to trust me that I’m doing this to keep you safe, and we can figure out the rest later.”

She spun around to face him. “I know you didn’t ask for this responsibility—of being responsible for me.”

Roman stepped towards her, but kept his twitching hand at his side. She wondered if it did that because he had to keep from reaching out and touching her. God. She wished he would—that made everything better.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through all this because of me,” Karine added, twisting the end of her index finger to make the bone crack because the pain steadied her resolve even more. “I know you and your family wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for me.”

“Karine, stop it.”

She didn’t, twisting another fingertip, cracking it again when she muttered, “And I do understand that you can’t tell me everything, but I don’t like knowing nothing, either, okay? I always know nothing. It doesn’t help.”

“Karine—”

“And, well—”

“Karine.” Before she could twist and crack another bone, that sharp ache getting her from one sentence to the next even though the anxiety had swelled in her throat beyond the point of comfort, he was there. Unfurling her hands, twining her fingers with his to stop the self-harm offering her relief. “Stop it, I said.”