Unfortunately, I know better.
This weight of wanting to be enough doesn’t go away just because she looks at me like I already am. That stubborn belief in me is exactly why I need to do this.
I need to be someone Violet can count on, even if it means doing the one thing I swore I never would again.
Leaving.
Only this time, it’s not about running. It’s about building something solid enough that I don’t come back empty-handed. It’s about becoming the man who stays, even when he’s gone for a while.
twenty-six
. . .
Violet
Rowan hasn’t kissed me today.
I know, I know. It’s not a big deal. People skip kisses. They get tired and distracted. But there was something about the way his lips landed on my cheek when I came over after work today. That soft, absentminded hello… It made the back of my throat burn in a way I haven’t felt since we were young and pretending we didn’t want each other—hiding behind friendship like it was enough.
We make dinner together a few nights a week now. Verydomestic. However, tonight it seems like we’re in two different worlds. The silence is heavy, and it’s starting to bother me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. I hate the uncertainty creeping into my tone.
He doesn’t answer right away. When he finally looks up at me from his seat across the table, his eyes are a little softer.
“Yeah,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just been a long day.”
“What’s going on?”
He sets his fork down, taking a deep breath. “You remember my cousin, Cain?”
A chill skates down my spine. I met Cain once when we werein high school. He was a few years older than us, with the same piercing blue eyes as Rowan. Only his were so much…colder. He didn’t say much when we met, but he didn’t need to. He immediately struck me as the kind of person who didn’t waste or mince words.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “He was…intense.”
Rowan huffs a short laugh. “That’s one word for it. He put me in touch with a buddy of his who runs a security firm.”
My stomach drops. “What kind of security firm?”
“High-end. Corporate protection. Some overseas contracts.”
The word overseas lands with a dull thud. I set my fork down carefully, afraid that if I don’t, I’ll drop it. “Okay,” I manage. “So…security. Like a job here?”
“Not exactly.” He leans forward, forearms braced on the table. “I’ve done some of this before. After I got out, I picked up work through connections I’d made—private jobs, escorting executives, security for shipments, things like that.”
My fingers curl into my napkin. “Is it…safe?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“That’s not an answer, Rowan.”
A beat passes. Then, quieter, he says, “It’s not always just standing around in a suit, Vi. Sometimes it’s being in places where things can go sideways fast.”
My chest tightens. “So it’s dangerous.”
“It can be.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Not all the time. But enough that they pay like it is.”
I obviously want his honesty but…it’s not helping. My mind immediately starts filling in the blanks—places I can’t picture, situations I don’t understand, danger I can’t fathom. It’s risk and uncertainty. It’s him walking into situations I won’t even knowhowto be afraid of until after the fact.