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She noticed.

By noon, the last car has pulled away and the cottage is quiet again. Locke gathers the remaining dishes and takes them to the sink. I lean against the counter while he rinses the first plate.

“You like having them here, don’t you?” I ask.

He glances at me. “Your friends?”

“Yes.”

He puts the plate in the rack and pauses with his hand on the edge of it. “They’re my friends too now.”

Warmth moves through me at the certainty in his voice. “Yes. They are.”

Locke cleans another plate. “They’re my friends. But you’re not only my friend.”

I pause. “What am I?”

“Rachel.”

“You realize my name isn’t a relationship category.”

“It is to me.”

That shuts me up. Locke goes back to the dishes as though he hasn’t just rearranged something inside my chest.

I smile and push away from the counter. “Okay. I’ll take it.”

Locke comes closer and wraps me in his arms. I rest against him while the last few dishes wait in the sink.

The rest of the day passes quietly. We putter around the cottage, sit outside for a while, and eventually eat the two pastries Janet left behind. Nothing dramatic happens. I’m beginning to appreciate how good that can feel.

At night, I lock the front door before we go upstairs, sliding all four deadbolts into place out of habit.

I switch off the kitchen light, then the one over the table. The only light left downstairs is the ridiculous red lamp glowing beside the front window, exactly where I said I wanted it.

I stand here looking at it.

Then I turn it off and follow Locke upstairs.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

Rachel

I wake slowly, with sunlight already pushing through the curtains.

For a few seconds, I stay exactly where I am.

Nothing woke me. No sound downstairs, no car outside, no half-heard noise my sleeping brain turned into something dangerous. I’m awake because I’ve slept enough.

That happens more often now.

I roll onto my side and find the other half of the bed empty. Locke’s pillow is rumpled, the covers pushed back where he got up without waking me.

Once, waking alone would have sent me listening for every sound in the house. Now I only wonder what Locke is already doing outside.

The order of protection was granted months ago, and even Trent seems to understand what “stay away” means when a judge says it.