Page 84 of When Love Found Us
Malerick meets my gaze then. And the look he gives me says everything before he even speaks, “I received a missing persons report from Florida.”
My breath stops, but Malerick isn’t finished.
“They’re looking for Henrietta Worthington. The report says she’s mentally unstable. That she’s a danger to herself.” A pause. “And to others.”
Silence crashes into the room, heavy and suffocating.
My pulse slams in my ears, vision narrowing, edges blurring. The walls feel closer. The air thinner. Like something is closing in before I can even take a breath.
No.
No, no, no.
This isn’t happening.
I look at Atlas.
He’s quiet, pressing the bridge of his nose, tension carved into every line of his body. And suddenly, I wonder—was that why he held me last night? Was he protecting me? Or watching me?
My voice comes out barely above a whisper. “Atlas?”
ChapterThirty-One
Atlas
The second hervoice cracks with my name, I know I’m fucked.
Atlas.
No teasing. No warmth. Just a raw edge, stripped of everything I don’t want to hear.
Blythe doesn’t move at first. Doesn’t run. But she steps back, like she’s trying to put distance between us—distance that wasn’t there last night. Or this morning. Her fingers curl around the handle of the mug she just set down, holding on like it’s the only solid thing in the room.
And I hate it.
She looks at me like she doesn’t want me near her. All the work I’ve put into this . . . can I even call it a relationship? I don’t know, but everything seems to just crumble at once. I might lose her.
Malerick doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. He just stands there, waiting. Watching.
I grit my teeth, exhaling slowly, like I can keep this under control if I don’t react. But why the fuck did he have to do this now?
Not the time to ask. Not the time to fight him. Don’t make this worse than it already is.
I take a slow step forward, hands loose at my sides, careful—because I know if I reach for her now, she might not let me touch her at all. “Blythe.”
She shakes her head once, quick and firm as if that alone could stop whatever I’m about to say. “How long?” Her voice is low, too low. “How long have you known, Atlas?”
I can’t lie to her. Not now. Not if I want her to trust me. I clear my throat, keeping my eyes on her. “Malerick came by last night.”
The slight tremor in her fingers stops. Then, just as quickly, she squares her shoulders. I see it coming before she even speaks. “I should go.”
No.
“Blythe.” My voice is firm but calm. “You can’t just walk out.”
She lets out a short laugh, but there’s nothing real in it. “Watch me.”
She turns for the hallway.
