Page 58 of After All This Time

The way she maintains her composure is infuriating, especially when I'm constantly on the verge of losing it.

However, I know the truth.

Because when I get close—so close there's no room left for her to keep her shit together—I see it. The little cracks in her armor, the way her breathing shifts just slightly, and the faint trembling she thinks I don't notice. Up close, she can't hide what's tearing her apart, no more than I can hide what I feel every time we're in the same room.

But then there's the distance between us—a gap that didn't exist before.

And it's killing me.

"Where are you going?" I ask, trying and failing to not let my eyes notice the way her dress hugs her curves. I focus on herface instead, determined to make her outfit the last thing on my mind.

"I've got work."

"Already?" I press, settling against the doorframe like I'm not deliberately keeping her here a few moments longer.

"I'm going in early. I might grab something to eat at the bar first," she replies, sweeping a stray strand of hair from her face.

"Are we out of food?"

"No, I just really want one of their burgers. There's leftovers from what I made last night if you're hungry."

"What is it?"

"Lasagna," she says with a slight shrug. "Made way too much of it, so knock yourself out." I nod, pausing just long enough to pretend like I'm not watching her move toward the door. "Did you have a good night last night?"

"Yeah, Tessa said you'll have to come next time."

"I'd like that."

"Do you want me to pick you up from work? I'm not doing anything tonight."

"I'm okay, thanks," she says, her voice soft but firm as she fidgets with her keys. "I don't know how late I'll be." For the first time ever, I've got nothing to say to her. "I'll see you later," she adds, tapping me on the chest as she moves past me toward the door.

The contact sends a sharp sting through me, and I wince, sucking in a hiss of air. "You okay?" she asks, already halfway out the door but pausing when she hears me.

"Yeah," I manage, choking back a laugh that comes out more like a growl. "You just hit my tattoo."

"Oh shit, sorry," she says, turning back toward me. "You got a new one?"

I watch as she takes a few steps closer, her maroon-colored dress skimming her thighs with every step. "Lola did it for me today."

"What is it?"

"You wanna see?" I ask, already reaching for the hem of my shirt. She nods, and I strip it off slowly, my eyes locked on her face because right now, her reaction is everything. She doesn't shy away, doesn't break the moment, and when the tattoo comes into view, her gaze softens.

"Wow," she breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's beautiful."

She lifts her hand as if she's about to touch it but hesitates, pulling back at the last second.

"Nice, right?" She nods, but her gaze falters, shifting away from me, like looking at me is suddenly too much. "Mills…"

"Yeah," she whispers as I take a step closer to her, looking at her the way I shouldn't, the way I can't help but look at her now.

"I'm sorry."

Her brows knit together as confusion crosses her face. "What for?"

"Whatever it is that makes you want to run from me."

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