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"Michael," I greeted with a calm I was far from feeling.

Michael took a deep breath, his face betraying his true feelings slightly - disgust and contempt. I couldn't care less what hethought of me as long as he didn't keep me standing out here too long. I was starved for Lucy Thomas. I needed to see her.

He stepped back, reluctantly inviting me in. I stepped through nonchalantly, trying not to rush my movements so I didn't appear desperate.

As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I sensed a change in atmosphere, and my humming body immediately calmed. I could sense that the other half of my soul was near. I could smell her...an intoxicating mix of Lillies and her watermelon-scented body wash. I knew it well, considering I bought the exact brand she used to stroke myself in the shower while I was missing her.

I could feel my steps quicken as I rushed to glimpse at her, no longer caring what her father thought. I walked into the kitchen, and my breath shuddered. My steps faltered, and I clutched the space above my heart. She almost brought me to my knees.

There she was. Sitting demurely at the kitchen table. She was wringing her hands together in anxiety and nervousness. Or anticipation? Did she miss me as I missed her? I couldn't imagine being the only one lost in this abyss of obsession. It was a shared madness.

Her head lifted when she heard me approach. Her cornflower blue eyes teared when she spotted me, and without thinking, I rushed to her side, unable to stand seeing her upset. I kneeled beside her, turning her chair toward me as her hands met mine in a flurry. Tears spilled over as the tension and worry on her face lifted.

"Lucy, Lucy, Lucy," I murmured as I placed fervent kisses on her knuckles.

"Roman," she choked out. She pried her small hand from mine to run it through my hair. I closed my eyes in bliss.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Michael stomped into the room, his voice loud in anger at the scene he was witnessing.

"Take your hands off my daughter before I throw you out."

I lifted my head, my eyes searing with rage that he dared to interrupt our reunion, considering he was responsible for our separation.

But I felt Lucy's calming hand on my shoulder before I could open my mouth. "Go," she softly urged. I looked up at her, her gaze full of love but also pleading with me to do her father's bidding. For her, I would.

Reluctantly, I stood. My hands ached with emptiness at removing my touch from hers, but I obeyed Michael. I walked to the opposite side of the table and sat in the chair Michael had scraped out for me.

I took a few calming breaths as I stared at Lucy, memorizing the gentle curve of her neck, the high cheekbones, the brightness of her gaze, and the contrast of her dark hair against her porcelain skin. I didn't know the next time I would see her again. I wanted to burn her profile into my retinas so that I could conjure up her image when I closed my eyes.

I felt Michael sit at the head of the table and take a deep breath. He was quiet for a few moments, which suited me fine. I was content to stare at Lucy.

"This is what's going to happen," Michael started.

I tore my gaze from Lucy's to glance at Michael. His stare was hard and glaring. A muscle jumped on his cheek as he looked from his daughter to me and back again.

"Lucy, you're eighteen. You have a few months left of high school before you graduate. I'm not an idiot. I know that I can't stop you from doing what you want to do, no matter how much I want to protect you."

Lucy rolled her lips in and bowed her head, attempting to keep her emotions in check.

Michael turned to me. The soft eyes he had given his daughter had dropped, and an accusatory glower was sent my way."Roman. The only reason I'm not turning you in is because there's a high chance I'll lose my daughter in the process."

Lucy gave a choked sob before covering her face, shuddering into her hands quietly. I half rose from my chair, frantic to get to her, to comfort her. Michael shot me a warning look before reaching over to clasp his daughter's hand. She quickly turned her palm over and squeezed her Dad's hand.

"Th-thank y-you, D-Dad," she hiccupped.

It suddenly occurred to me that I should be thanking her Dad, too. But truthfully, the threat of losing my career over Lucy never entered my head.

I was worried about losing Lucy.

I was worried she would sacrifice our love for my career. I was worried her Dad would shuffle her to the darkest corner of the Earth, away from someone he deemed a threat. But not once did I feel apprehension over my job.

I cleared my throat. "Thank you," I acknowledged. "I want you to know even if you turned me in; it wouldn't stop me from being with your daughter."

Outrage simmered in his stormy eyes at my words, but I hurriedly continued before he could return in kind. "But there's no way I would encourage Lucy to cut contact with you. I understand your anger and how you want to protect Lucy. As much as I love your daughter, I would hate to see her cut contact over me."

"Great, so stop seeing my daughter," he growled.

I regarded him quietly, attempting to ignore Lucy's soft sniffles that were tugging on my heartstrings. Michael met my stare, his eyes challenging me to defy him. He still couldn't comprehend how deeply I loved his daughter.