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Now, just looking at Patrick’s face, I can tell there will be no telling him about my feelings. Not the ones pertaining to him, anyway.

“You’re quitting?” he says, his voice like an axe through the air. It’s sharp enough to split an atom. My heart skips in my chest.

“Resigning,” I counter. In reality, it doesn’t matter, but it feels like an important distinction. “I was planning to stay and help train someone new.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

“Patrick, please. I’ve loved working at Dunne Tech, and I’m not leaving because of anything to do with the company.”

His face twitches, and I know him well enough to read it right away—something to do with me?

“Not the company, and not you. I just… I’ve been so focused on work.”

“We’re all focused on work, Cami. That’s the entire point of having a career.”

“I don’t think so. I think the point of a career is to facilitate everything else in your life. Like, yes, it’s been very fulfilling to be successful and everything, but…”

I notice the way he’s holding himself very still. I’ve never seen him like this before, even when he was obviously upset in the office. Although he’s upset, and maybe even a little angry, I’m not afraid of him. I know even in anger, Patrick is not the kind of man to be violent or aggressive.

Still, my hands shake as I talk to him. It almost reminds me of years ago, when I confronted him and the other higher-ups about allowing holiday decorations in December.

“Patrick, I’ve put all my extra time into this company. And I’ve been more than happy to help build it, but now I want to build something of my own. A family.”

“A family,” Patrick says, almost like you have a family.

Which I do, but I want my own family. I want to contribute to the tapestry of the larger family with my own little pod.

And so I tell him that, even though it’s probably not something I should share with my employer and fake fiancé.

“Patrick, I want to do Christmas with my kids and create holiday magic for them. I want to raise amazing humans who go out in the world and make it a better place. I want my mom and dad to have more grandkids, and I want to go on family vacations together and have inside jokes and contribute to another person’s life the way my mom and dad contributed to mine.”

It all comes out in a huge rush, and I worry that Patrick hasn’t been able to follow. But he doesn’t look confused. Instead, he gets a strange look on his face, almost like this is something he’s heard before. But I’m positive he and I haven’t talked about it. Other than me wanting kids in general, I certainly haven’t told him about resigning from the company.

In fact, I kind of forgot about the letter of resignation. I’ve been so tied up in all this Christmas stuff, I forgot about the reason I decided to follow through with the fake fiancée thing in the first place.

“That’s why I agreed to do this,” I admit, clearing my throat and looking away from him, heat rising into my cheeks. “I knew I wanted to step back from work for a little while, and the money from this…arrangement would help with that.”

“Right. But people can have families and keep their jobs at the same time. You don’t have to resign just because you want to get married and have kids.”

He rustles the paper in his hand a bit as he says it, and I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my forehead.

“I mean, that’s true, but it’s mostly men who don’t have to take time off to have families. When—if—I get pregnant, I’ll have to take time off. And what about being there with the kids? Why work so hard just to pay for childcare that eats up all the money I make? You’re right that it’s not fair to have to sacrifice one or the other, but I also feel like I’ve sort of had my career. Now, I’m ready to have my family. Maybe someday I’ll want to go back to it, but…”

I trail off, realizing I’m just talking to keep from hearing whatever he has to say about that. Face tight, Patrick nods. “You’re right. I know it’s not…easy. To be a mother in the workforce. But…”

His jaw shifts, and he looks to the other side of the room, face cloudy. I want to cross the space between us, want to put my hands on either side of his face like I did before, in the snow. Want to hold him and make him look at me.

Patrick swallows and his jaw tightens again. “You could have told me, Cami. When were you planning on telling me?”

My stomach sinks.

I don’t feel bad about wanting to resign. But Patrick is right. Over the past two weeks of me staying with him, getting to know him, I could have brought it up. I could have told him in a way that wasn’t him finding the letter of resignation on our trip with the Morenos.

As though remembering at the same time as me, Patrick clears his throat, drops the letter on the bed, and moves to walk past me. “I’d better get ready. We don’t want to be late.”

“Patrick—” I reach out for him, catching his wrist. He pauses, looking down at it. We stand there together for too long, and I think about saying it. Telling him that I’ve been…what?

Developing feelings for him since we got here?