Oh God. A slight tremble rocked my body, starting in my toes pinched due to the too-­tight black heels, coursing all the way up the tips of my fingers.

Reece let go of my hand and slipped his arm over my shoulder. He bowed his head, pressing his lips against my temple, and my heart squeezed even more, clenched to the point I wondered if I was having a heart attack.

Instead of standing at Charlie’s funeral, I saw myself standing at Reece’s. Might’ve sounded crazy, but because of his line of work, it was believable. One day I could be standing right here and saying good-­bye to him.

I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs.

Pain sliced through me. I couldn’t do this anymore. I turned to Reece, saying just that.

“Okay. I’m going to get you out of here,” he said, and I knew he didn’t get it. He couldn’t get it. He turned to my father, speaking too low for me to hear. My dad nodded, and then without saying a word, Reece steered me away from the graveside ser­vice.

I was walking fast, my hands balled into tight fists by the time we reached his truck. When we were both inside, I stared out the windshield as Reece drove and once we were back at his condo, I wasn’t feeling empty. I was feeling wild, like an animal snared in a trap.

I knew what I needed to do.

Being with Reece could easily end up with me being utterly destroyed, beyond the point of repair. For a sweet, brief time I convinced myself that I could deal with that. I could let myself fall for him and it would be worth that risk. Standing there at Charlie’s grave was a brutal wake up call.

I had to have the strength to walk away.

Sliding past Reece, I headed straight to his bedroom, where my suitcase and tote were next to the dresser. I took my glasses off, placing them atop the dresser and then pulled my hair up into a quick bun.

“Roxy?”

Not turning around, I kicked off my heels. “Yes?”

“You’re not okay right now.”

I opened my mouth, and a harsh laugh slipped out. “I’m fine.” I picked up my shoes, placing them in the bottom of my suitcase.

“Babe, you just walked out of your best friend’s funeral ser­vice,” he countered gently. “You’re not fine.”

Hands shaking, I grabbed the neat stack of jeans I know my ass didn’t fold. It had to have been Reece. I placed them in the suitcase.

“What are you doing?” His voice was closer.