Page 134 of What We Bury

“Why? Because you want to fuck her?” Milo shakes his head. “Because that’s the only variable that’s changed, and if that’s enough to make you pull away from someone who needs you, then you need to take a long, hard look at what kind of man you really are.”

The silence stretches. I can hear the fridge humming. Sage’s breathing, slow and steady, drifting down the hallway like proof that she trusts us enough to sleep while we’re here.

Eli looks toward the hallway like he can see through the walls into her room.

“We need to be careful,” he says finally, but all the fight has gone out of him.

“We will be,” I say. “But careful doesn’t mean absent. And it doesn’t mean punishing yourself for wanting something good inside all of this shit.”

He stands there a moment longer. Then he gives a slight nod and heads for the door.

“Eli.” Milo goes after him, stops him before he can get the door open. “You’re hurting our girl. You know that, right? You were the one who called her that first—ourgirl. So fucking own it. It’s what she wants too.”

Eli doesn’t respond. And as soon as Milo steps away, he opens the door and walks out.

Milo lets out a long breath, running his hand through his hair. “Why is he like this? He’s obviously in love with her.”

I don’t answer right away. I’m watching the door, the place where Eli stood thirty seconds ago. I’ve spent over a weekwaiting for him to come back to himself. Tonight he sat in his car and fell asleep outside her building. He held her sleeping body like she was the only good thing he’d ever touched. He hung his jacket on her chair like a man planting a flag.

And he walked out anyway.

This man is impossible.

“Yeah,” I say finally. “He is. I guess not everyone is as sure about their feelings after eleven days as you.”

Milo rolls his eyes. “Eleven days?” He scoffs. “Try immediately. It was love at first sight, Micah. And any of you denying that is a fucking liar.”

He’s quiet for a second.

“Also. Just so you know,” he starts carefully. “She asked me about you and Eli at dinner. Why he reacted the way he did to walking in on you with her. I gave her the abridged version.”

I look at him.

“How abridged?”

“Eli-and-Micah have a thing, on-and-off, mostly off. Eli is allergic to feelings. You want more than he can give. He rations himself and walls back up. Not pretty. Not healthy.” Milo pulls a face. “I called it the low-pressure front.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “It’s not a secret. We don’t talk about it because Eli can’t, not because I won’t.”

Milo nods, relief easing across his face. “She’s not an idiot, Micah. She knows we’re all complicated. I just . . . I wanted her to have context, not melodrama.” He pauses. “And she needs to know people mean what they say to her. All the way. Or it’s just another performance. Another fucking thing she doesn’t get to own.”

I nod, because what else can I do? He’s right. Sage has been hunted, handled, washed up and wrung out more in the last two weeks than most people would get in a lifetime. If she’s going to have any of us, it can’t be as a fucking project or a pity party. Sheneeds somebody to want her for her. Not for the job, not for the mission, not for her trauma points. Just for her.

He picks up the sponge again, then puts it down. Picks up a dish towel, folds it, sets it on the counter. Picks it up again. His hands need something to do, the same way mine do after a hard shift when the adrenaline is hitting hard.

“He’ll come around,” I say, hoping more than believing.

“Yeah.” Milo leans against the counter and stares at the entrance to the hallway, toward the room where she’s sleeping. “I’m gonna head out. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow. Tell her I’ll see her later, okay?”

“Of course.”

He hangs up the dish towel and grabs a bag of trash, heading out into the night like the cleanest little psycho there ever was.

He pokes his head back in, a beat after closing the door. “By the way, your keys are on the counter.”

I glance over and sure enough, there are three shiny copies of keys to Sage’s new lock sitting there. One for me. One for Holden. The third one is Eli’s—he didn’t take it.

“Night, Milo.”