“How are you feeling about it?”

Tears pricked her eyelids. “Fine.”

“I don’t think you are feeling fine.” He stepped closer to her and took her injured hand.

She swallowed. “I don’t want to face her.”

“I’d feel the same way.”

“She’s claiming self-defense.”

He drew her against him. “No one will believe her.”

“I don’t want to have to answer all those questions and see her watching me from the prisoner’s dock.”

He smoothed her hair. “You are the strongest person I know. You can do this.”

She shook her head. “Not with her, Randall. It’s like she’s this virus I can’t shake and that I have no immunity against.”

“You have already beaten her, Kate.”

She thought of the box in her closet.

“No. I haven’t.”

She pulled herself out of his arms and turned to the window.

The butterfly was gone.

“Kate, why are you so scared of me?”

She turned around. “I’m not.”

He stepped closer. She smelled his fresh scent, the tang of sweat, a hint of coffee. “I don’t believe you.”

She would have backed away but the windowsill was behind her. “I’m not scared of you.”

He recaptured her injured hand and placed it against his heart. “Why did you come today?”

She felt his heart thud against her palm. His heartbeat pulsed through the vein in her wrist all the way to her heart.

“I’m here because…” Heat flushed her cheeks.

“Because?” His heart now beat more quickly.

And so did hers.

She shook her head. Tears sprang into her eyes. She tried to pull away.

“No, Kate.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Dance with me.”

“There’s no music.” But she didn’t move away.

“That’s easy.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Within a second, an electric bass began a rhythmic beat. And then David Bowie’s and Freddie Mercury’s duet filled the kitchen.

Kate gave him a wry smile. “Under Pressure. I wonder why today of all days you were listening to that.”

“Shhh…just dance with me.”

He took her hand. This time, she did not pull it away. His other hand slid over her hip.

He began to sway to the music, Kate’s hand cupped in his, pressed against his heart.

His breath in her ear, his heart under her hand, his hips moving against hers.

She closed her eyes.

The song built to its climax. Randall softly murmured the lyrics in her ear.

He had a nice tenor.

Loss filled her. Longing swept through her. The song always had that effect on her.

She longed to not be afraid any more.

I can’t be afraid any more.

She curled her fingers around his.

The song finished. Randall lifted his head. His eyes—so brilliant, so tender—gazed into hers.