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And me, being the complete buffalo-brained idiot I still am, I’m dead inside.

I don’t care about my own feelings.

Snarling, I push myself up on the sofa next to her and gather her into my arms.

“Just let me, okay? As your friend. Nothing else. Stop crying and c’mere, Ophelia. Let me hold you.”

She resists for a trembling moment, then glues herself to me the same way she always does, this tiny bundle hiding against me.

“I’m sorry,” she rattles out. “I’m sorry, I’msorry...”

“Don’t be.” I stroke my hands over her back slowly. It’s killing me—fuck is it killing me—knowing I could lose her just as soon as I found her again. She’s hurting, though, and I ain’t gonna make that worse. “You’re going through pure hell, Philia. That’s what’s going on. You gotta do what helps you first and last. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. D-don’t you lie to me, Grant Faircross.”

“I ain’t lying. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die, split a camel if I lie.”

That gets a weak smile from the bundle of woman in my arms.

“I never did figure out how you and Ethan came up with that camel splitting thing...”

I snort.

“Honestly don’t remember. I think we were trying to make it about how a camel will spit in your eye, but we were kids and it got all mixed up and corrupted.” I chuckle, even though it feels like chewing broken glass, and hold her closer. “Look, I don’t care if you’re breaking up with me. I’m still your friend. I’ve always been your friend.”

And I’ve always been obsessed.

A dead man walking, wishing like hell I could be so much more.

“...the best friend I’ve ever had,” she whispers. Her hand creeps out from her knotted-up tangle and curls in my shirt. “It’s... it’s not forever, Grant. Let me get through this. Let me think. That’s all I’m asking. I need to get to the other side of this—of everything—and then I can breathe. Then, maybe I can think about us.”

My eyes burn like hot coals as I smile.

There’s a little hope still burning, but it’s honestly the last thing on my mind.

All I know is the woman I love is hurting like hell and I can ease her pain.

I can help her deal with it by accepting what she needs right now and being there for her.

“We’ll talk when you’re ready,” I promise, smoothing her hair back to try to get a glimpse of her face. “For now, we’re gonna do what we can with what we’ve got. That means figuring out what’s really going on with Ros and helping her out whatever way we can. Okay? ’Cause something sure as hell ain’t right. I went up to talk to Lucia today. She was all about Aleksander pushing for a quick wedding. Does that sound like Ros to you?”

“No way.” Ophelia shakes her head raggedly. “Not at all, she always wanted to take her time. She was such a shy girl, barely ever dated. I used to tease her about finding a man before fifty at the pace I thought she’d go. But that was the Ros I knew. Old Ros...”

“Yeah. Old Ros is still there, Philia. Lucia said she’s holding up the show because she wants your ma there.That’sOld Ros. That’s the Ros who still cares about her family, no matter what else she’s going through. For Aleksander, this must be about something else. He’s getting something out of it.” I reach over, wiping a tear off her cheek with my thumb. “So you sit tight. We’re gonna figure out what that something is and then we’re not gonna stop talking sense until Ros fucking listens, okay?”

The worry in her eyes just piles up a little higher, a few more sharp stones on an avalanche of hurt, but slowly, she nods.

“Okay. I guess that makes sense,” she says. “Anyway, if you’ll give me a little bit, I’ll grab my stuff and get out of your hair. We can talk tomorrow and—”

“And not a goddamned thing,” I growl, holding her hand too tight. This possessive streak whips through me. “Maybe Mason Law’s in the hospital, but I’ve still got a bad feeling. You’re safer here with us. The guest room’s still yours.”

Her face crumples. “But after I—”

“Woman, you’re fine. Wouldn’t dream of sending you back home, letting you out of my sight.”

Her face smooths. She knows I won’t budge on this lone condition, keeping her close.

Leaning in, I press a kiss to her forehead.

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