Page 114 of Beyond Protection
"She picked Christmas on purpose," Mac said hollowly. "Because we'd all be together."
"Her logic doesn't have to make sense. It just has to make sense to her."
He closed the file. Set the phone face down.
"I keep wondering what I did. What signal did I give?"
"You didn't do anything. You existed. You were beautiful and public, and that was enough for her."
Mac blinked. "How do you do this? Stay calm and not fall apart?"
"I fall apart later," I said honestly. "When the job's done. Then I go somewhere private and fall apart where no one is watching."
"That sounds lonely."
"It is."
He reached across the table. Took my hand. "And now? Is that still the plan?"
"Now I'm trying something different." His fingers tightened on mine.
"How's that working?"
"Still figuring it out." I looked at him. "But it's better than running."
"Come on," I said. "You're not sleeping. I'm not sleeping. At least let's be not sleeping somewhere comfortable."
In the living room, the Christmas tree still blinked. I sat on the couch. Mac sat beside me. Close enough that our shoulders touched.
"Tell me something," he said after a while. "Something real."
"Jazz. I listen to jazz. Vinyl. Have a collection in Portland. Miles Davis. John Coltrane."
"Why jazz?"
"My dad played it. Sunday mornings. He'd make breakfast and playKind of Blue, and that made the world a good place."
"You miss him."
"Yeah. He's still in Oregon. I don't call enough."
"Why not?"
"Because visiting means answering questions about my life. And my life for the past three years has been isolation and running from everything that matters."
Mac turned his head. "You're not running right now."
"No. I'm not."
"Why not?"
Because you make me want to stay.
"Because running hasn't been working," I said instead. "Figured I'd try something different."
He leaned his head against my shoulder.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Pulled him closer.
