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I try to smile. “Are you okay?” I ask again.
But the fear in his expression doesn’t go away. I know that expression so well. I saw it in my head for far too long afterward.
His jaw shuts, the muscles tense, like he’s not letting himself say something. He swallows thickly, and then I see the worst look of all cloud his features.
Regret.
He pulls out of me and then gets off the bed, pulling his pajama pants back on. I pull the sheets up to cover myself and then I grab his wrist, holding him in place before he can walk away.
“What is it?” I eke out.
“Laila,” he says to me. He blinks, unsure of how to proceed.
But this time I don’t want to be left in the dark.
“No,” I say, shaking my head violently, panic clawing up through my chest, my hands gripping the edge of the sheets. “Don’t do this, James. Not now. Not when we’re finally figuring this out.”
God, are we figuring it out? Was it all in my head, this feeling that we were heading in the right direction together, that it was only a matter of time before we decided to take the plunge and be together?
Was I delusional this whole time, just as I had been before?
“I almost lost you today,” he says, his tone turning sharp and hard though his eyes hold all the pain. “I almost lost you. What was I thinking? What was I thinking that I could be with you, be with the very woman I have to protect?”
“You’re not supposed to protect me. You’re there for—”
“For you!” he exclaims, eyes flashing. “For the boys, for Ella, and for you. I saw that man come at you with the knife and all I could think about was you. For a moment it wasn’t about the kids and it wasn’t about the royals and it wasn’t about anyone or anything but you. How can I do my job properly when all I care about is you?”
I’m not sure what to say to that. I press my lips together, my heart pounding wildly, trying to think, trying to figure out how to talk him off this ledge he’s on.
“It doesn’t matter—”
“It does matter. This is my job, this is my purpose.”
“Can’t you have both? Can’t I be your purpose too?” I ask softly.
“You are my purpose,” he says adamantly, running his hands down his face. “And that’s the problem. I should have noticed that man well before he reached you. But instead of focusing on the bloody people I was hired to protect—people who feel like friends, who feel like family—I’m losing myself to you. It’s unlocked a new level of fear, and I don’t think I can go through that. Everything is so messy and complicated now.”
“James, I like it messy and complicated. I like what we have.” God, I hate the pathetic tone of my voice, like I’m almost begging him to reconsider. I’m having déjà vu, and it’s making me sick.
“I just can’t risk you getting hurt,” he says with a shake of his head. “Everyone I’ve ever cared for has left me. I almost lost you today, and I already feel like my heart is being torn apart, like I’m splintering. I don’t think I can go through this, having you so close if it means putting you in harm’s way.”
“I’m not asking to get married to you, James, or have your babies. I’m not even asking you to be my boyfriend. I’m just…”
“What?” he asks, looking wild. “You’re just what? What do you want, then? What do you want from me?”
My chin starts to tremble, and I know that if I lay out the truth, if I tell him how I truly feel, it won’t change anything. He’s already afraid, so afraid, and it will only give him a reason to push me further away.
It’s what he wants.
It’s his default.
He gets close to me and then gives in to the fear. The fear of losing me permanently, the fear of compromising his job…it’s still the same outcome.
“I just want you to care for me the same way I care for you,” I finally say.
“And how do you care for me?” he whispers, words broken. “How do you feel about me?”
But I can’t answer him honestly anymore. That ship has sailed. My words, my heart—they’re not safe with him. Not when it won’t change a thing.
