But Damon’s warning. Myra’s yet. The way the library had felt with both of them in it. The unfinished sentence that kept arriving and kept stopping just short of the thing it was actually saying.
Lena was quiet for a moment when I finished.
“He said ‘when you’re ready’,” she repeated. Slowly. Like she was tasting the weight of it. “Not “if”.
“Yes.”
“Isla.”
“I know.”
“That man is absolutely–”
“I know, Lena.”
“–completely, entirely–“
“I know.”
She laughed. Soft and warm and the specific laugh of someone who is very, very pleased with how something has turned out. “So what’s the problem?”
I turned a page of the collection without reading it.
“The problem,” I said carefully, “is that I’ve been here three days. And eight years with Jaxon taught me that the way someone makes you f
