Page 124 of The Broken Keys

“Of course.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

He leaves and I spin in his reasoning. I stop myself because Callum has never lied to me and I don’t think he would about my health.

I love him and I know he still loves me, even though there’s a gap of time between us. The reality is that we found each other again.

We were in the process of fixing whatever was broken. I’ve gone a week trying to push myself to remember, but maybe this is how it was always supposed to be.

That gives me an idea. My pulse accelerates as I clean up and prepare to approach this proposition with Callum.

Once I’m done, I limp my way downstairs. He’s in the kitchen making dinner.

I smile at the sight. “You cook now?”

He glances up. “I’m trying.”

“What are we having?” I slide onto a stool at my center island, wincing.

“You okay?” He stops and assesses me.

“Mmm hmm.”

“What’s hurting?”

“Nothing. I just…” I steady myself. “My ribs tightened when I sat down. It’s nothing to worry about.”

He huffs a laugh. “Like I’ll ever stop being concerned about you.”

That’s all it takes for me to know it’s the perfect time to reveal my proposal.

Warmth grows in my heart. “In that case, why don’t you move in with me?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

JAXON/JAX

Now

What’s Owed & Collateral Damage

Some debts are paid in money, others in blood.

My phone lights up on the desk. Cash’s name flashes across the screen.

Cash Mayze:Livianna’s been discharged. I’m taking her to her place.

I stare at the words until they blur. She’s going home. With him.

The office around me feels too small. My calendar shows back-to-back meetings I’ve been canceling for days. Natalie stopped asking questions after the third one.

I set the phone down, and it buzzes again.

Cash Mayze:Thought you should know.

Generous of him. Letting me know the woman I love is starting a life that doesn’t include me.

I should respond and acknowledge the update. Maybe even thank him for keeping me informed like we agreed.

Instead, I pocket the phone and stand. My reflectioncatches in the window—wrinkled shirt, messed-up hair, and the kind of exhaustion that sleep won’t fix covering me.