Because I had told her only Khell. I chewed on my lip again for a moment, staring down at my hands. There was a bit of paint still marking my wrist from waking up early this morning and working on the walls of my studio.

It had been surprisingly easy to get through the week. I’d thought I'd be madly watching the hours pass, waiting to return to the cottage, but instead, it was almost like returning to normal. Booking the appointment was like taking “the end” out of the back of the story and allowing it to grow again. My time with Khell wasn't over after all.

But he was retired.

"Is he…back in construction?" I asked.

"I think so!" Astraeya answered, beaming at me. "It's cute he told you about that."

So he hadn't moved to another company. He'd just left this work. And I'd dragged him back. Or at least gently called. I hadn't begged him. Maybe Astraeya had on my behalf, though.

"Sonya," Astraeya said gently, catching onto my turmoil by now. "It's not uncommon for our partners to have an attachment to a client. To want to…be there for them."

But Khell had retired. He'd left MSA.

He'd quit the job that brought us together.

Was it really right to use an “attachment” to bring him back?

For a week, I'd felt that door opening, the words waiting, the canvas stretching to make room for more beauty. And now I knew—tonight would only delay the inevitable.

This would be the last time. My end with Khell had been the evening he left the cottage.

CHAPTER 21

Khell'ar

I paced the cottage floorboards as though I were threatening the walls around me, every step thumping, wood creaking. My eyes held the face of the clock in the kitchen, trying to force the hands to turn faster.

One month. I had waited, and my patience had paid off. Sunny had called the agency, asked for me again. Another day and I would've certainly broken, but the relief of the call soothed the fever.

Thank fuck for Astraeya. She'd marked me down as “freelancer.” If MSA really wanted to dig deeper, they might have had some concerns about why their recently departed former employee came back for the last client they'd booked. I didn't care. Sunny would be in my grip in minutes. And then…

I would have to break the MSA contract, tell Sunny the truth about the mating bond, and see if there was a chance for us, for me, outside of the cottage and the bookings.

My stav was already starting to pump like I was a sapling before his first good rut—constantly hard and clueless as to what to do with the new charge of arousal always simmering in his length.