“That’s not fair. That’s not what you want.”

“I’ll manage,” Kim said. “All I need to know is that you’re with me today and will be here tomorrow. If I can have today and tomorrow on a rolling basis—”

“Yes.”

“When either of us feels the urge to change that, we’ll discuss it again. Until then we’ll take things as they come. Does that work?”

Will breathed out, not sure if he’d been granted a reprieve or just balked at a hurdle. “It does for me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I am, though. I should be able—”

“Stop being strong at me. You weren’t ready for that conversation, that’s all.”

“No. I wasn’t. Thanks for understanding that. I just...”

“Panicked.”

“I did not panic.”

“I don’t think the less of you for it. But you definitely panicked.”

“Sod off.”

“It’s merely an observation.”

“Sod off.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m still more of a shambles than you.”

“I’m beginning to wonder,” Will muttered. He brushed his lips over Kim’s fingers, and felt the sense of—not panic, obviously, but extreme nervous tension recede.

He was going to deal with this. He was not going to keep shoving the tangles of his thoughts into a cupboard that was creaking under the strain, while telling himself it would all come right somehow. He would sort himself out, because if Kim could do it, then Will bloody could. Probably.

“I’ll think about this, I promise. But listen.” He met Kim’s dark eyes. “I think about you all the time. I see you hurt and it makes me want to burn things to the ground. I don’t know what a future’s supposed to look like or how it would work, but I’m not letting you go without a fight, no matter what. I don’t know what I’d do all day.”

“That will do nicely for now,” Kim said, and tugged him close.

Chapter Twelve

Will feared he’d dream about the trenches that night. In fact he slept like the dead, and woke early to hear Kim breathing softly next to him. Kim, who was going to blackmail an intelligence agency into covering up a murder.

He could not bring himself to feel happy about that.

He could probably put his foot down—tell Kim no and make him listen—but he had a bad feeling about that too. Kim’s entanglement with his family went far deeper than Will understood, with tendrils of dry rot reaching back through the years. Will wasn’t planning to trample into that minefield: Christ knew what he’d set off.

Kim had his reasons to save Chingford’s worthless neck and this wasn’t all about Will by a long chalk. But it was partly about him, and what Kim felt for him, and wanting a life they could share.