I do as I’m told. He snaps a stern picture of himself with my phone and swipes his fingers across it in a flurry. As he types, a message pings, causing his brow to quirk and his eyes to roll slightly.

He returns the phone, showing me that he’s added himself as a contact under Tripp Grady Tripp, using the stern pic as his avatar. I chuckle lightly. Under a new text from Ashe, Grady texted himself one word.

Marina.

“It doesn’t matter the hour. It doesn’t matter the reason. I’m here if you need anything. Promise me, you won’t hesitate to reach out.”

“I promise.”

He looks skeptical, sizing me up with those electric eyes of his. Once again, it looks like he has a million thoughts damned up behind his intense stare. I reach out, and his hand drifts easily into mine. His rough gentleness takes me back to my first night in the hospital when his hands around mine felt like a lifeline in a dark place. He kneels before me, enclosing my hand in both of his.

“Marina,” he says finally, “You might be the nicest, sweetest person I’ve ever met...”

I’m about to coo and gush thanks, but his stern look cuts me off.

“…But now is not the time for nice. Whatever you want or need takes priority. Understood?”

My eyes narrow while my lips curl into a smirk I can’t contain. “Go home, Grady.”

He laughs. “That’s my girl.”

Then, looking sheepish again, he diverts to the cats, giving them each a pet before heading to the door.

I close my eyes, breathing in the cold wave from him opening the door. My phone pings again—reminding me of Ashe’s text.

Are you mad?

I don’t know how I’m supposed to be. Not nice, I suppose. I push the soup away, my appetite gone. My side aches.

I lean against the back of the couch, closing my eyes and willing the pain pills to do their thing. Come on, little buddies. You can do it. Kick that pain’s butt.

My phone pings again.

I’ll book a flight home. I shouldn’t have listened to her.

But, you did listen to her, Ashe. You left. Wrangling my inner not-niceness, I type words I know I should say.

But then I can’t hit send and delete them.

Instead, I give him the words he wants. I always know what he wants me to say, like I’m a Magic 8 Ball of acceptable responses designed to appease him.

It’s okay, Ashe. I’m doing so well, I came home early. If you need time away, then you should take it.