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"It's too isolated. I thought I wanted that but Trevor showing up just..." I shake my head. "I can't be out there alone. Every sound makes me jump. I keep checking the locks. I can't work. I can't breathe."

"What do you want to do?"

This is it. Ask for what I need or talk myself out of it.

"Can I stay here?" The words come out rushed. "With you? At least until I figure out something else?"

He's quiet long enough that panic starts to set in. It's too much. Too fast. He's going to say no and I won't blame him.

Then he says, "Yeah. Of course you can stay here."

"Really?"

"Really." He steps closer, still holding my hands. "But Lyla, I need you to know something."

"What?"

"I'm not asking you to stay here because you need a safe place. I mean, yes, that's part of it. But I'm asking you to stay because I want you here." He cups my face with both hands. "If the cottage wasn't an issue I'd still be trying to figure out how to ask you to move in."

"After three days?"

"After three days."

"That's completely insane."

"I know."

I look around the house again. At the empty walls waiting for photos. The bookshelves waiting for books. The kitchen that smells like nothing because no one cooks in it. The whole place waiting for life.

Then I look at Kieran, standing there with his heart in his eyes, giving me room to decide without pressure.

"I have conditions," I say.

"Okay."

"I keep the cottage lease for another month. Just in case this doesn't work out."

"Done."

"And I pay for half of everything. Groceries, utilities, whatever. I'm not moving in so you can take care of me."

"Agreed."

"And if at any point this doesn't feel right, we talk about it. No pretending everything's fine. No letting resentment build up."

"I promise."

I study his face, looking for any sign of reservation or doubt. I don't find any. Just steady certainty and something that might be hope.

"Okay," I say. "Then yes. I'll stay with you."

His smile is bright and genuine and transforms his whole face. He pulls me to him and kisses me hard, and when we break apart we're both grinning like idiots.

"When do you want to move your stuff?" he asks.

"Is now too soon?"

"Now is perfect."