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He winces at the steel in my voice. “As far as I know, JL hasn’t said anything to Micki. And my family doesn’t know anything either. Navigating all this has been so hard. Maybe I need to go for more counseling.”
He’s been moving closer and closer and now pulls my hand up to his lips and kisses my wrist, palm, and each finger. I pull back. He watches me move, his eyes clouded. “Were you serious about going alone?”
My hand moves up to my mouth and I pull on my lower lip before answering. “Probably not. Let’s sleep on it and talk in the morning.” I move toward the stairs, hating the weak, whiny note.
“No. I told you, we have to settle things tonight.”
He takes my elbow and steers me into the living room. I perch on the edge of the big armchair. Thorfinn climbs up and puts his head in my lap. Max settles on the couch.
The ensuing silence grows heavier and heavier.
Finally, I can’t stand just watching him watch me. “How do you know I’m not in as much danger here?” I ask him. “Your terrorist could target me to net you.”
His head snaps back. Then he stares at his shoes.
But he doesn’t answer.
I push on. “How do you think your parents will feel when they find out?”
“I expect a stern telling off,” he mutters, his head turned away like a small boy who knows he’s wrong but doesn’t know what to do about it.
A voice comes out of the darkness. “Hey, Max, can I heat up some milk? I’m having a hard time getting to sleep.”
Max groans.Jarvis, he mouths, as if he thinks I’ve forgotten that we have a houseguest.
“Jarvis,” I call out. “Go ahead and have your milk. If you can’t find a pan, let me know and I’ll get one out for you.”
Max catches my eye and smiles. “Can we agree that we’ll take the trip together?” Then his gaze drifts back to the floor, as if he’s bracing for bad news.
“I made a commitment to you. A commitment not to run away. And even if you still haven’t learned not to keep secrets from me, I’m honoring my part of the deal.”
I stare at him until he glances up, then give him a thin smile. “Anything else you’re hiding?”
“No. What Metin told you is all of it. Well, not the little details. I can tell you those.” Circles show black under his puffy eyes as he pulls off his glasses. The only sound is the scrape of his nails against the scruff on his chin.
“Too tired.” I yawn, pushing up from the chair.
“You still haven’t forgiven me.” Each word lands like rain dripping from the roof.
“Not yet.” The promise of eventual forgiveness hangs in the air. “Your nose is cold,” I tell him as he nuzzles my neck. Then I say, “Amy’s kind of scary.”
His laugh wobbles. “Scary? Maybe, but mostly annoying. She’s good at her job. I don’t socialize with her.”
My snarky side comes out. “I was unconvinced when she told us she grew up with pets. Gerbils! You could tell she was grasping at straws before she thought of that.”
“And the fish.” I can’t suppress a gurgle of amusement. “Assuming she really had any, I wonder how long it took before she overfed and killed them.”
I’m giggling helplessly, visualizing fish stuffing themselves, the water murky with fish food. Finally, I spit out, “She seemed awfully interested in seeing your office. I wonder why.”
“Tech envy, maybe. She probably thinks I have a room stuffed with advanced equipment.” He laughs. “If she only knew it’s a graveyard of crap.”
“Really?” I’ve never been in Max’s office.
“Do you want to see it?”
I feel as if we’ve reached a crossroad in our relationship, and taking this step commits us to a path. I think of Robert Frost’s poem and hope it’s the right one. “Uh, yeah.”
He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. “Turn out the lights when you come back up,” he yells to Jarvis.
