Page 55 of Bear Naked Truth
She didn’t turn. Just nodded once. “Yeah.”
He stepped closer, pausing a few feet behind her. “You don’t look it.”
A pause. Her breath fogged the glass in front of her.
“I finished the last of the house yesterday,” she said. “Cleansing’s done. Spirits are settled.”
Dorian frowned. “You sure?”
“Sure enough.”
He waited. Gave her space. Let the silence do what it needed to.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
The words knocked the wind out of his chest.
She turned then, slow and deliberate. Her eyes met his, and it nearly broke him because he could see it.
She didn’twantto leave. But she felt like shehadto.
“I told you this was temporary,” she said, voice quiet. “That once the job was done?—”
“That was before,” he cut in, not harsh, just honest. “Before everything.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
She pressed her lips together, eyes flicking down to her hands. “Because this place has roots. It’s alive. It holds stories and spirits and... pain. And I’m too tied to all of that. I don’t just hear ghosts, Dorian. I carry them.”
He moved a step closer. “You don’t have to carry them alone.”
“You say that now,” she whispered, “but you haven’t seen what happens when I stay too long. The ghosts don’t go away. They linger. Theyattach.And one day, they’ll look at you and see a threat, and I won’t be able to protect you from that.”
His hands clenched at his sides.
“You’re scared,” he said, voice low. “Not just of the ghosts. Of being loved.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Because you think if someone really sees you—sees the weight you carry—they’ll walk away.”
“Dorian—”
“I’m not walkin’,” he said, stepping closer. “But I’m not gonna chain you here either. If you need to go, go. But don’t lie and say it’s just the spirits driving you out.”
She blinked, a tear slipping down her cheek.
“It’s not in me to stay,” she confessed, brokenly. “Everywhere I’ve been, it’s been about the next haunting. The next call. The next door creaking open. I don’t know what it looks like tobelongsomewhere.”
He reached out slowly, brushing his thumb under her eye to catch the tear. “Then let me show you.”
She didn’t lean into the touch.
“I need to clear my head,” she said after a long pause. “Just... a little space.”
He nodded. Didn’t argue. Didn’t beg. Didn’t ask her to stay when he knew she wasn’t ready to believe she could.
