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Instead, I pull her to me and hold her tight. “I’ll take that, The Morrigan; I’ll take that.”

“You’re still on probation,” she mumbles into my chest.

“Good girl,” I whisper into her hair. “Don’t let anyone take your power away from you.”

“I hate my father.” She sags into me.

“He deserves that.”

“I hate Vito.”

“Me too.”

We sit in silence, the enormity of everything slowly seeping through.

“My father had muscular dystrophy.” I’m not even sure why I am bringing this up now. “Declan got tested and he isn’t a carrier. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to deal with the implications of positive genetic test results.

“Instead, I lived my life like nothing matters, chasing my mortality, not really applying myself anywhere. Because, here is the twist, I thought not knowing would spare me, but it did the exact opposite. Without realizing, I acted like my life didn’t matter. As we all know, it only got worse after Dad passed.”

She squeezes my hand, and while I stare into the foyer where a large vase of fresh flowers creates more home than this house ever did, I still can sense her eyes on me. And I know they are full of compassion. Because that’s who this woman is.

Love and compassion.

I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I think he left me that letter to tell me I’m not a carrier. That I can open up to a commitment. And I’ll deny ever admitting this, but it scares the shit out of me. And yet not committing to us is scarier.”

I turn to look at her. She moves my hand to her lap and just holds it there in silence. It’s like she is holding my heart, though. When she lifts her gaze, finally, there is a new level of softness on her face.

“I’m scared to trust you.”

“I know, baby. I’ll prove you can, and in the meantime, kick me every time I make decisions for you.”

A gleam of mischief flickers through her sad eyes. “Can I aim for your crotch?”

“That wouldn’t be good for your other needs.” I smirk.

She chuckles humorlessly.

I pull her to my lap, and she doesn’t really cooperate but doesn’t fight me either. It’s like we reached this tentative truce, but it’s so fragile, it can shatter at any moment.

Our lives are still filled with unresolved issues. Our relationship is still undefined. But at least she is here.

“I will gladly take any pain, all the hurt, if that makes you feel better, Saar.”

“Still sleeping in the office?” Declan takes a seat on my sofa without invitation.

Fucking Roxy. Does everyone know about that?

“Since when do I have an open-door policy?” I growl.

I’m tired, and frankly I’m annoyed by the amount of work. For the first time since we opened these offices, I don’t want to be here.

I want to be with Saar. Or I just… Well, I want to be with her, but I’m fucking scared like a little boy that she won’t be home when I return.

We agreed last night she’d stay, but I still fear she may have been overwhelmed in the moment. That with me gone, at work, she has enough time and space to realize she doesn’t need me.

I should have worked from home. I would have concentrated better without constantly thinking about her. Just being closer to her.

And I wouldn’t have to deal with unwanted visitors. I glare at Declan.