All I want to do is hold her. I have an undeniable urge to keep her safe. She peers up with those chocolate eyes that are now red from crying. The pain in them breaks my heart. I would cut my own arm off to take that sadness out of her eyes. I know unequivocally that I would do anything for her. Realization strikes me like lightning, brilliant and violent.

I love her.

Terror hits me harder than a semi-truck, knocking the breath out of my lungs. I love this exquisite, feisty, damaged woman in a way I never thought possible. And it scares the fucking shit out of me. My chest constricts. I can’t breathe. For half a second, I seriously think I might be having a heart attack.

Every fiber of my body is telling me to run. Don’t pass Go. Don’t collect two hundred dollars. Just get the fuck out before it’s too late.

Before she destroys me.

It’s already too late. My heart is hers to break.

Instead of running, I tuck a strand of her frizzy hair behind her ear, wipe away the tear trailing down her cheek and place a tender kiss on her forehead, hoping she doesn’t realize the power she has over me.

“What’s wrong, Goose?” I ask as I rub her back in slow circles.

“It’s all gone.” I stare at her, not understanding. She holds up her phone and gets choked up, “It’s gone. Everything I’ve worked for.”

“Take a deep breath. I don’t understand. Your phone died?”

“No. Not my phone,” she snaps, exasperated. “Uforia. My country. It’s gone. Someone’s destroyed it. Jackie just texted.”

I let out a sigh of relief, my body releasing some of its pent-up tension.

“This is all just about your game? You scared the shit out of me. I thought someone died,” I tease with a soft chuckle. The daggers shooting out of her eyes quickly shut me up.

Fuck. That was the wrong thing to say.

“Just my game?” she scoffs, giving me a shove as she stands up. “Just a game,” she repeats again, more to herself than to me. She paces around anxiously like a caged tiger.

“It is not just a game. It is my everything. Do you know how many hours I’ve spent building Uforia? Do you know how hard I’ve worked?” Her hands are flailing wildly and there is a terrifying fire in her eyes I’ve never seen before.

Standing up, I tell her, “Okay, calm down,” I know the second the words are out of my mouth it’s the wrong thing to say. Again.

She charges at me with her sweet face contorted in fury. She goes from broken girl to rampaging hulk in two seconds flat.