Page 134 of Beyond Protection
"I won't." I squeezed his fingers.
He looked at me. His eyes were glistening.
"I'm terrified of you getting hurt." He raised a hand to cup my face. "But we're doing this anyway because the alternative—letting her win, letting fear keep us frozen—that's worse. Right?"
"Right."
"So we trust your instinct. We trust Michael. We trust that you'll know what to do when it matters." He leaned in. Rested his head on my shoulder. "I'm putting my life in your hands. Not because I have to—because I want to. Because I believe in you."
"I'm scared," I said.
"Good. So am I. We're both terrified and doing it anyway. That's courage."
We stayed like that for several minutes.
"I need you to come back," Mac whispered.
"I will. I promise."
He kissed me. Harder this time. Desperate. His hands gripped my jacket, pulling me closer as if proximity could keep me safe.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Come back to me," he said against my mouth.
"I will."
Somewhere inside, Ma started cooking again—the smell of roasting meat drifting out to us.
"I should go back in," Mac said eventually. "Ma's going to need help."
"Probably."
He kissed me one more time. Quick.
The door closed. I was alone again with my equipment, the gray afternoon, and the weight of promises.
I picked up the magazine. Rechecked it. The spring tension was fine. Everything was fine.
***
Sixteen forty-five. The kitchen was full of competing smells—roasted garlic, rosemary, and something sweet baking. The air was thick with heat and anticipation.
I was helping Michael load gear into his truck when headlights swept the driveway. A Subaru pulled in behind my rental—the engine cut. Then Claire emerged carrying something wrapped in cloth.
She moved differently from her son—slower, more deliberate, each step considered. Where Mac filled space with energy, Claire carved calm around herself.
Ma opened the door before Claire could knock. "You're early."
"I wanted to catch them before dinner. Is Cormac inside?"
"Guest room. I'll get him."
"No need." Mac appeared behind Ma. He immediately looked at what Claire carried. "Mom?"
She stepped inside. Unwrapped the cloth with careful hands, revealing the bowl she'd collapsed at her studio.
Except it was whole again.
