I wore a black long-sleeved silk blouse and slacks to work on Tuesday, feeling the need to have a barrier between myself and the world. In the kitchen, Gideon cupped my face in his hands and brushed his mouth across mine with heartrending tenderness. His gaze remained haunted.

“Lunch?” I asked, feeling like we needed to cling to the connection between us.

“I have a business lunch.” He ran his fingers through my loose hair. “Would you come? I’l make sure Angus gets you back to work on time.”

“I’d love to come along.” I thought of the schedule of evening events, meetings, and appointments he’d sent to my smartphone. “And tomorrow night we have a benefit dinner at the Waldorf=Astoria?” His gaze softened. Dressed for work, he looked somber yet col ected. I knew he was anything but.

“You real y won’t give up on me, wil you?” he asked quietly.

I held up my right hand and showed him my ring.

“You’re stuck with me, Cross. Get used to it.” On the drive to work, he cuddled me in his lap, and again on the ride to lunch at Jean Georges. I didn’t speak more than a dozen words during the meal, which Gideon ordered for me and I enjoyed

immensely.

I sat quietly at his side, my left hand resting on his hard thigh beneath the tablecloth, a wordless affirmation of my commitment to him. To us. One of his hands rested over mine, warm and strong, as he discussed a new property in development on St. Croix.

We kept that connection throughout the entire meal, each of us choosing to eat one-handed rather than separate.

With each hour that passed, I felt the horror of the night before drain away from both of us. It would be another scar to add to his col ection, another bitter memory he’d always have, a memory I would share and fear along with him, but it wouldn’t rule us. We wouldn’t let it.

Angus was waiting to take me home when my day ended. Gideon was working late, and then going directly from the Crossfire to Dr. Petersen’s office. I used the length of the drive to steel myself for the next round of training with Parker. I debated skipping it, but ended up deciding it was important to keep to a routine. So much in my life was uncontrol able at the moment. Fol owing a schedule was one of the few things total y within my power.

After an hour and a half of tagging and groundwork with Parker at the studio, I was relieved when Clancy dropped me off at home and proud of myself for working out when it was the last thing I’d wanted to do.

When I stepped into the lobby, I found Trey talking to the front desk.

“Hey,” I greeted him. “Going up?”

He turned to face me, his brown eyes warm and his smile open. Trey had a gentleness to him, a kind of straightforward naïveté that was different from the other relationships Cary’d had before. Or maybe I should just say Trey was “normal,” which so few of the people in my and Cary’s lives were.

“Cary’s not in,” he said. “They just tried cal ing.”

“You’re welcome to come up with me and wait. I won’t be going out again.”

“If you real y don’t mind.” He fel into step beside me as I waved at the gal at the front desk and moved toward the elevators. “I brought something for him.”

“I don’t mind at al ,” I assured him, returning his sweet smile.

He eyed my yoga pants and tank top. “You just get back from the gym?”

“Yeah. Despite it being one of those days when I’d rather have done anything else.” He laughed as we stepped into the elevator. “I know that feeling.”

As we rode up, silence descended. It was weighted.

“Everything al right?” I asked him.

“Wel …” Trey adjusted the sling of his backpack.

“Cary’s just seemed a little off the last few days.”

“Oh?” I bit my lower lip. “In what way?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. I just feel like maybe something’s up with him and I’m missing what it is.”

I thought of the blonde and winced inwardly. “Maybe he’s stressed about the Grey Isles job and he doesn’t want to bother you with it. He knows you’ve got your hands ful with your job and school.”

The tension in his shoulders softened. “Maybe that’s it. It makes sense. Okay. Thank you.”

I let us in to the apartment and told him to make himself at home. Trey headed to Cary’s room to drop his stuff, while I went to the phone to check the voice mail.

A shout from down the hal way had me reaching for the phone for a different reason, my heart thudding with thoughts of intruders and imminent danger. More yel ing fol owed, with one voice clearly belonging to Cary.

I exhaled in a rush, relieved. With the phone in my hand, I ventured to see what the hel was going on. I was nearly run over by Tatiana rounding the hal way corner stil buttoning her blouse.

“Oops,” she said, with an unapologetic grin. “See ya.”

I couldn’t hear the door shut behind her over Trey’s shouting.

“Fuck you, Cary. We talked about this! You promised!”