Page 157 of Just One Little Bargain

I press my palms flat against my eyes. Breathe once. Twice.

It doesn’t help. My body is still unsteady from his mouth, and yet my thoughts have already seized on the confession and begun worrying it raw. He’s carried that knowledge of us being soulmates for however long and never trusted me with it.

The timing is atrocious, but the secrecy cuts deeper. I don’t know when he realized what the word means to him, or how many moments between us have held an entire truth I couldn’t see. Now that I know, I can’t return to the ignorance of five minutes ago.

I’d rather he’d kept it to himself.

“This was a mistake.”

“Evie.” Milo steps toward me. His hands hover at his sides. “Please don’t walk away from this.”

“I’ve got guests waiting upstairs.” I straighten my shirt, fumbling the hem twice before my fingers cooperate.

“Ask me anything.” He closes the distance between us. “Be angry with me. Tell me I should’ve said it sooner, because I should’ve. But don’t shut me out without letting me explain.”

The plea in his voice catches against every emotion already crowding my chest. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Stay and let me talk to you.”

“No.” I move toward the stairs.

“Evie, please.”

His footsteps follow. When I reach the first step, his hand closes around the railing beside mine.

“Let me come with you.”

“No.” I climb before he can move around me and pull the door wider between us. “Leave me alone, Milo.”

For once, he listens. I watch the warmth in his eyes collide with the wall I’m erecting.

This is better for both of us.

Chapter 45

Milo

Four days.

The number sits behind my teeth like a splinter, but Evie’s silence is worse. She’s made herself impossible to reach. Every time I try to speak to her, she finds another reason to leave. She makes these last days hurt more by treating me as though I’m already gone.

When I walk into the kitchen, Evie has coffee brewing and chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

“Can I talk to you?”

Her hand stills on the counter. “About?”

“Yesterday.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It was a mistake.”

“No, it wasn’t.” I take a step closer. “What I said—”

“You can stop right there.” She turns with the dish towel twisted between both hands. “Even if what you said is true, it makes no difference.” The cloth drags across her palms as she folds it sharply. “So we’re not doing this.”

“Evie—”

“I need to check on the guests.”