Page 96 of Dangerous Obsession
“Her name was Erin,” he said, voice low and even. “We worked together. FBI task force. But she was more than my partner.”
Julia stayed quiet, giving him space to continue, now that he was finally talking.
“We fell for each other knowing we probably shouldn’t.” His mouth curved faintly. “Eventually, I asked her to marry me.”
His gaze drifted away again, fixed on a place she couldn’t reach.
“We were wrapping a long case,” he said. “It was complicated and violent, but we thought we had it under control.” He went quiet briefly. “We didn’t. They moved earlier than expected. Forced us to split coverage.”
Julia felt his chest rise beneath her cheek.
“I made the call.”
There it was. Not just grief. Responsibility for a loss so impossibly painful, it had reshaped him.
His hand flexed once against the sheet before going still again. “I wasn’t there when it happened, but I should have been.”
The words landed heavier than anything else.
“She took the hit,” he continued. “Didn’t survive it.”
The room fell silent except for the rain.
“Leland…”
He shook his head once. Small. Final.
“I don’t do attachments,” he said. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. And I don’t put someone in a position where my decisions get them killed.”
That wasn’t fear talking. It was a verdict he’d passed on himself years ago.
“You think that’s what this is?” she asked softly.
His gaze sharpened when it returned to hers. “Isn’t it?”
“No.” The answer came easily. “You didn’t walk away from me. I walked away from you. You tried to keep me close.”
His jaw set. “I should have tried harder.”
Emotion caught unexpectedly in her throat at the quiet honesty of it. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Safe in your bed. You didn’t fail.”
His expression shifted. Barely visible but real.
“And I’m not walking away now,” she added.
The silence stretched between them felt different this time. Not empty but charged with emotion neither of them dared to name.
“Since Erin, I’ve ended things before they mattered,” he admitted quietly. “Before it cost anyone. Until you.”
His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a gentleness that undid her more than anything physical earlier. “That’s the problem. I keep coming back to you.”
It wasn’t a denial or resistance. It was truth stripped bare.
Julia rested her hand gently on his cheek. “Maybe it’s time you stopped treating us like a problem you have to solve.”
His eyes searched hers.
“I’d stay,” she whispered. “If you’d let me.”
