For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t utterly certain which path to take.

“I made the arrangements yesterday,” he explained in an even tone that belied the way his heart was clawing at his chest. “I would think you would be thrilled, love. Learning at the Sorbonne is every artist’s dream.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, then, Stef. It’s a very nice gesture. I have to turn you down.” She reached down and picked up the suitcase at her feet. “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff once I find a place to stay. If you need me, I’ll be at Callie’s for a couple of weeks.” Stef was on his feet in a second. “What is that supposed to mean?” He’d expected fire and fury from Jennifer. The deep, abiding sadness in her form was unexpected. “It means I finally get it, Stef.

You don’t want me. You don’t have to spend a ton of money to send me halfway across the world. I get it. I won’t be some puppy nipping at your heels anymore. But this is my home, and I expect you to be civil when you see me. I’ll be nice, too. In a while, it’ll all just be a distant thing. We’ll just be neighbors.” His fists clenched, and he felt his face go red. “Neighbors? I’m not your fucking neighbor, Jennifer. I’m your lover, and I’m doing what’s best for you. I’m trying to make your dreams come true.”

“Your dreams, Stef,” she said wearily, his anger not moving her a bit, it seemed to Stef. “I know you think I’m some amazing artist, but I want to paint because I love it, not because some critic says I’m the next Van Gogh. Van Gogh’s life sucked. If I get to choose a happy, mundane life or immortality, then bring on the babies and the laundry and the date nights. I know you think this is about me, but it’s not.” He stalked toward her. His hands itched to hold her and haul her back to the guesthouse. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not about her?

What the fuck was she thinking? His whole life had been about her since the day she walked into Bliss. “I beg to differ, love. I called in favors, and had my father call in favors, to get you into the program.”

“Stefan.” His father’s tone held a distinct note of warning. “Be careful what you say.”

Stef ignored him. He didn’t matter at that moment. Only the fact that she was defying him mattered. He might have been able to handle it if she’d fought, but the guilt she was pushing at him was a bit much.

He’d been the one to get her out of jail. Now he was moving heaven and earth to make sure she could see the world. He’d called yesterday about an apartment for her in Paris with a view of the Seine and every luxury available. And she called him selfish? “Me? I’m thinking of me? Was I thinking of myself when I got you out of jail?”

“I appreciate that, Stefan.”

He hated the way she’d said his name. She never used Stefan, always Stef in that casual, affectionate manner of hers. “I’m sure you do, love.”

“But sending me to Paris is entirely about you.”

“You’re going to have to give me a bit of explanation. I think your logic is faulty.” He wanted her to shout. If she would just shout, he could let out his pent-up emotion. She just stood there looking at him with what he was beginning to believe might be pity.

“I can’t quite figure it out, to tell you the truth. I only know it isn’t your great and deep love for me that has you shipping me out. It’s about fear, or it’s a test. Maybe both. You think that if I go off on some grand adventure I’ll come back and I’ll suddenly be mature enough for you to consider settling down with. But I think you’re wrong. I think you would just come up with something else. Maybe you would think I needed more time to be successful without you.

Maybe you would decide I wasn’t ready for kids. All I know is you’re the one making the decisions. You’re the one deciding what my dreams are and how I’ll achieve them.”

“Ah, we’re back to the King Stefan argument again. Yes, I’m horrible. I pull everyone’s strings. Poor Jennifer. I’ve been terrible to you.”

She sighed, her body sagging. “Not at all. You just don’t love me.”

“I told you I loved you. I said it last night.”

“Fine. I’ll rephrase. You don’t love me enough.”

“I love you enough to let you go.”

“But not enough to keep me. Not enough to let me make up my own mind. I would have been like Stella, you know. I would have been here. I wouldn’t have walked out. I can’t promise that I won’t want more of a career someday. I can’t promise that I’ll never want to spend time outside of Bliss. But there’s a difference between your mother and me. I would ask you to build that career with me. I would ask you to see the world with me because none of it would matter if you weren’t with me. She didn’t leave because she needed more than you could give her. She left because there was something missing inside her, something she never had. She didn’t love you. She didn’t love your father. The fault lay in her, not either one of you. But I would have loved you. So much. I know I’m probably proving your point by walking out now, but I can’t spend the rest of my life proving myself to you. I can’t wait around for you to decide I won’t ever leave, because I don’t think you’re ever going to believe it. I’ll always be younger than you, Stefan. I’ll always be an artist. And you’ll always be waiting for me to leave.”

Silence hung in the air, a palpable weight keeping them apart. Stef stared at her across the space between them and couldn’t seem to move.

“Jen?” Callie’s voice echoed as she walked through the door.

There was a solemn quality to Callie’s tone that let Stef know she had been informed why Jen was leaving.

“I’m coming.” Jen turned and began walking. “Good-bye, Stefan.”

She didn’t look back.

“Go after her.” His father was standing, staring at the door before shifting his focus to Stef.

Stef took a step back, and then another, until he found his seat. He had to force the air into his lungs as the truth crept over him. She was right and had been all along. He’d been testing her and calling it a selfless act. He’d said he wanted to wait until she was ready, but he’d been doing the opposite. He’d been watching and waiting and cocooning her in protection until he was ready.

She wasn’t the one who wasn’t mature enough for commitment.

He turned to his father. “Why did you come back?”

“Damn it, Stefan. This is serious. That girl is leaving you.”

“Why did you come back?” He shouted the question, all pretense at civility gone.

Sebastian stepped back, startled. “I came back because I couldn’t waste another moment. I came back because I love you, son.”

“Is that the only reason?”

His face a chalky white, Sebastian took his seat again. “No. I came back for her. She doesn’t seem interested anymore. I can’t blame her, but I’m going to try. I came back because I can’t live another moment knowing I haven’t done everything to make it up to her.”

And there it was. The truth. Fear had cost his father decades. It had been fear, not abandonment, that had ruined his father’s life. Stef sat back as regret swirled through him.

“It doesn’t have to be that way for you, Stefan,” his father urged.

Maybe. But maybe he’d ruined any chance he had. Would she believe him if he ran after her? The question no longer occurred to him whether or not he wanted her. He wanted her with all his soul. A new question had arisen.

Did he even deserve her?

* * *

Alexei yawned and managed to sit up, his muscles pulling and aching slightly from the too-cramped cot. It had not been made to accommodate a man of his size. The room was dim, the blinds still closed. He stretched and wondered what time it was. He’d managed to get to sleep. He’d been in worse places than the Bliss County Jail.

He’d even found the deputy’s light snoring somewhat comforting. It was a reminder that he wasn’t alone. For the first time in a long time, his dreams hadn’t been about blood and loss.

“Don’t worry about it, Sheriff. You do what you need to do. I knew I’d be working a lot during the festival.” Logan was talking quietly into the phone as though he was trying not to disturb his prisoner. Alexei was astounded by it. “I’m fine. Naw, I might have snuck a little nap in. I can handle things this morning. Just give me the weekend off next week, and we’ll call it even. Thanks.” Logan put the phone down and glanced Alexei’s way. “Oh, hey.

Sorry if I woke you.”

“Not at all. I sleep very good.” He wasn’t about to return the deputy’s kindness with complaints. Alexei felt his stomach rumble.

Logan walked to the front window and twisted the cord that opened the blinds. Sunlight streamed into the room. The street outside was covered in a blanket of snow. A few people walked past the window, long, colorful boards in their hands. “Stella should be here any minute with your breakfast.”

If breakfast was as good as his dinner had been, Alexei wasn’t sure why there weren’t more people in jail. He felt unaccountably cheerful. It made no sense. He was sitting in a small jail, waiting to be taken to a larger jail where he would most likely be interrogated and potentially deported to a place where everyone would want him dead.

Yet, he felt a sense of peace he’d not felt in forever. He was going to do the right thing. He was going to bring down Pushkin, but in the proper way, in the way that would have made his family proud.

“Is the FBI still coming?” Alexei suddenly wanted to get started.

He was eager to begin this new life he’d found.

“Yes. They’re driving in, though. The airports in Colorado Springs and Denver closed. There’s an ice storm. We’re good here, but they’re going to have to fly into Albuquerque and drive up from there. I hope they know how to drive in the mountains. I doubt they’re going to get here until tonight.”