Page 318 of Mario
“I can't always be.”
“No,” he says. “But you will always have protection.”
His eyes stay locked on mine.
“And this particular threat won't be a threat much longer.”
I swallow. I'm not sure I want to know what that means.
The fire crackles in the silence.
I look at him, this man I accused in my mind of murdering his wife, this man who lost a woman and a baby to the thing now living inside me.
This man, who will likely spill blood in my name.
I'm not sure how to feel about that.
But I'm too exhausted to give it any more thought tonight.
“I should have come to you,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he says.
No softening. No lie.
A tear slips down my cheek.
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
“I’m still scared.”
His expression shifts.
“Of me?”
I shake my head. “I wasn't scared of you. Not really. I was scared of the situation and of my feelings and how quickly it was all moving.”
“You're not the only one, you know.” His voice is quiet when he says it.
“Really?”
“I'm still human underneath it all.” Then his hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck. “Just don't tell anyone.”
My small laugh ends on a shuddering breath. “It'll be our little secret.” I look up at him. “I don’t know what happens now.”
His eyes move over my face.
“Now,” he says, “you eat. Then rest.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Always with the food.”
“You'll just have to get used to that.”
I wish I could make some clever joke back to him, but I'm still lightly trembling, and I just want to stop thinking for the night.
I turn toward him, and his arm comes around me, pulls me to him.
