She slammed her hands down on the bench. “Do you know what I really need?” she asked. “I need you to leave me alone and to stop telling me that you’re here for me. I know you’re not really here for me because you’re happy this has happened. You never wanted me to be pregnant in the first place. I get it, Bishop. I’m not pregnant and you can have anything you want, but you can have all the women here. I don’t care. Sleep with them. Do what you want, but stop pestering me. It’s not going to happen.”

Without picking up her books, she stormed away.

The silence all around her was deafening. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done or said, but what more did he expect from her?

Rushing toward Preacher’s office, she closed the door and moved toward his closet. He only kept files in there, but long ago, when she was little, he’d once told her if she ever felt afraid or needed to be alone, she could go here.

What was wrong with her? It wasn’t like Bishop deserved her anger.

He’d done nothing wrong.

He’d not pushed them off the road, or caused her to be thrown from the window. It wasn’t his fault.

“Great, now I feel guilty.” She dropped her head in her hands and hoped the silence would come to her soon.

****

“I should go and talk to her,” Bear said.

“No.” Preacher put a hand on his chest. “Don’t.”

He walked to his boy. Bishop stared at where Robin had disappeared.

“Are you okay, son?” he asked.

“No. Yeah. I don’t know. I … I’m not trying to push, Dad.”

“I know.”

“It’s hard. I want to be happy, but I know she’s hurting and I don’t know how to help.”

“We can only take our time.”

“How can I expect her to want me when she’s right? I did want her to lose the baby. I’m a horrible bastard.” Bishop sat down on the bench. “I’ve spent so much time caring about myself that I didn’t think about what it was she wanted.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine because she’s all alone, and I can’t stand her to be alone. Not ever.” Bishop’s shoulders slumped.

“I’ll go and talk to her,” Preacher said.

No one made a move to stop him.

He went to check out Bishop’s room, his own, then the spare room she’d used a couple of times. When neither of those locations helped, he went to the only other place he could think of her going.

Closing the door behind him, he saw the closet door open and her feet peeking out.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at him,” she said.

“I’m not here for any apology.”