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Grace is mine.
It’s completely insane.
All of it, because I just met her.
Because I’m broken and she deserves better than the fucking mess that being with me would bring to her doorstep. Because it’s not just her. It’s Molly too. She has a daughter to think about. Someone who relies on her to be strong. Keep her safe. Make the safe bet.
And the safe bet sure as fuck isn’t me.
If I were ever going to man the fuck up and do the right thing, it would be now. It would look like me letting her go. Sending her away.
It would be me putting an end to this thing while the two of us still have a goat’s fuck chance in hell of surviving the fall.
It should be.
It has to be.
Because I’m not the right man
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Letting go of her wrist is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I do it, even though the loss of contact hurts so goddamned much, it steals my breath. “Goodnight, Grace.”
“Good night,” she says quietly, reclaiming her wrist with a reluctance that makes me want to grab her all over again. I can feel my resolve crumbling, but before I can give in, she turns away from the bed. Turns away from me.
And this time I let her.