I can’t help the small whisper in response at the back of my mind: Cody would. Cody would grant me grace. Hell, letting out my frustration in a huff, I place the amber glass bottle of lotion on my dresser and know that he gave me more grace than he should have this past weekend. I don’t deserve it, and he knows that now. Yet he still wanted me and I can’t fathom why.

My mind is still a whirlwind of everything that’s happened in the past few weeks.

Pretending as if I’ll sleep at all tonight, I take the lightweight gun with me to the kitchen for a glass of water to bring to bed. This gun is coming with me everywhere. I have my firearms license and there’s not a chance in hell Cody would have let me walk out his door without it. The kitchen light is still on and the front door boasts a blinking red light, signifying the alarms are all set. If anyone were to try to join me tonight in this place, the alarms will sound and Cody will know instantly too.

I’m not blind to the fact that he’s circled the building multiple times. In fact, it warms something inside of me.

If anyone had told me years ago that he would look out for me like he has, I’d have told them to fuck off and stop filling my brain with white knight fantasies.

I didn’t get to where I am in life by relying on anyone else. Taking another sip of my water, I lean against the farmhouse sink.

This morning, naked in Cody’s bed, I came to a simple conclusion. I want to be in my own home and alone. No security detail, no prince in shining armor with a sad backstory. No nothing. I need to be on my own. How am I going to get better if I rely on Cody? I can’t and I won’t. Given this past weekend, I’ve obviously lost it.

Half a day on my own has already been good for me and clearing my head. The first half was spent arguing with Cody … again. The water rushes out of the faucet and I fill my glass before heading back to my mostly cleaned bedroom.

I spent the rest of the day unpacking and cleaning up the piles of paperwork, all while talking to my sister. We spent nearly three hours on the phone. First, I let her unload and then I did some unloading of my own, keeping out some small details. Like every piece about Marcus. Somehow, he’s become my secret and I don’t know what will happen if I tell anyone. Really I’m afraid of what will happen if I tell. I’ll lose him and quite possibly ostracize myself, lose my job … forfeit my sanity. No one knows I kissed him, and I’d like to keep it that way.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand, so I trade it for the glass of water and plop down cross-legged on the bed.