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“Is Sadie with you?” he asks, and I want to snap that it’s none of his business.
Except, in a very literal sense, sheishis business. “She is. And she’s completely safe and secure.”
German nods. “Let her know we’ll be heading back to Oakley as soon as the storm dies down. The situation has been resolved.”
“Resolved?” I ask, crossing my arms as relief wars with sudden panic in my gut. “Explain.”
“Resolved,” he repeats. “As in, we believe there is no longer a threat against Ms. Markham.”
“Youno longer believe?” I ask. “Or you know for certain?”
“We believe it is safe for her to return home,” German says, and the look on his face, even in the dim light, tells me I’m not going to get any more out of him.
With a quick nod, he disappears down the hallway, and Sadie steps up next to me. My stomach falls. Because the theoretical return to the real world we weren’t done discussing just stopped being theoretical. A whole lot sooner than I anticipated.
“You heard?” I ask, and she nods, the shadows on her face making it difficult to read the expression in her eyes.
I want to close the door. I want to grab Sadie in a hug, pull her to my chest, assure her that I’ll be patient, that I believe this is worth fighting for. But I don’t do this. I don’t know that shewantsme to do this.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” I say.
“Me too. It’s a relief.” She sounds anything but relieved. She sounds more like one of those automated voice messages.
“Well,” I say, just as Sadie says, “I should?—”
We both laugh humorlessly. “You first,” she says.
“This really brings us full circle,” I say. “Should we talk about where this leaves us? About what’s next?”
I sound desperate. I feel desperate. And I already know what Sadie’s going to say—or some version of it—before she says it.
“I need some time, Ben. This whole conversation was … a lot. And I guess I need to pack.”
It’s a thin excuse, and we both know it. But I’m not going to push anymore, even though I want to tell her she doesn’t need to do that right now. She also doesn’t need to get off the boat the second we dock.
Instead, I open the door wider and step aside. I watch Sadie walk across the hall, allowing her the space she asked for, hoping like hell this isn’t the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
SIXTEEN
Sadie
I’ve never donea walk of shame. But that’s exactly what it feels like when I decide to leave Ben’s yacht when the sun is barely peeking over the horizon. Hurriedly grabbing all my bags and tiptoeing out of my room, I can only hope Ben’s door won’t pop open to reveal the man whose words and smile and everything aren’t making me rethink my life.
If I see him, I might crack.
It works. His door does not open. And I am just about to disembark, accompanied only by the two agents who were up and ready before I was, when Leandra calls, “Off so soon, Sadie?”
I freeze, just like a cartoon character—one leg poised in the air and my eyes wide. Clearing my throat, I lower my leg like a normal person and turn, giving Leandra the best smile I can manage.
“Good morning,” I call brightly. “I didn’t know anyone else was up.”
She arches a brow, clearly not buying it. What’s more, I can read the disappointment clearly written on her face. “Where’s Ben?”
“Still sleeping.” I wave a hand. “I didn’t want to disturb him.”
“Is that right?”
No, it’snotright. It’s wrong in every sense of the word. Wrong not to wait for Ben to get up before leaving. Wrong to leave things between us as unfinished as a half-crocheted sweater. Wrong to lie to a woman I truly enjoyed getting to know.
