Page 40 of Reckless Love

“When you said one last game, I thought…”

“What should he have told me?” I can’t help the edge in my tone. This is my life. Everyone else knows what’s going on before me.

“The Nile voted to unionize. My job here finishes tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s our last day together?” I grip the banister of the stairs, and dread pools in my stomach.

He searches my face, and I don’t know what he sees, but he used to be an expert at navigating my moods. “This was always temporary,” he says.

Emotion clogs my throat, and I feel silly for staying upstairs the last few nights, for letting this time with him trickle through my fingers. Hours wasted. Why do I always make the wrong choice?

“One game,” he says. “Winner takes all.” He unsnaps the security unit off the wall and heads into the living room.

Reluctantly, I follow, and when I get there, Stephen is already setting up the chessboard.

“I noticed you haven’t taught Landon this yet,” he says.

“I barely know how to play.” The words are sticky in my throat, hard to get out.

“You were pretty good a few nights ago.”

“With a lot of help.” I slide into the seat across from him at the table.

We play in silence for minutes that stretch out, and I’m not sure what to say. Don’t go is all I can think. Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go again.

“Raul will be mad the vote went through,” I say, putting a pawn in jeopardy. Raul is the last subject I want to touch, but it’s a vital reminder.

Stephen takes the pawn, and he doesn’t look at me when he says, “What does that mean for you?”

“Nothing, really. He’ll work a lot, which isn’t new. And he’ll try to figure out a way to make the workers pay for saying yes. He’s vindictive. Doesn’t let things go. Never wants to be wrong.”

Stephen doesn’t coax me to say more, and instead, he focuses on the board, trying a couple of moves before settling on one that doesn’t seem to do much.

“Does this mean you get some time off?” I ask.

“No. High-profile clients fly in the night your husband gets home. I’ll be with them.”

“Because you’re short-staffed?”

“Yes, and they requested me.”

A frisson of jealousy travels down my spine, and I want to ask who it is, why they’d request him, if he’ll be sleeping at their house the way he slept at mine.

“You don’t think I’m in danger anymore?” I toy with my queen on the board.

“You? No.”

“If I was still in danger, it wouldn’t matter anyway, right? You’re not being paid.”

He stares at the board for a long time without touching anything, and when he meets my gaze, his scotch-brown eyes are soft but determined. “If I thought you were still in danger, I’d fight to stay.”

A warm sensation floods my chest. “Stephen, I—”

“Mommy?” Landon calls from the bottom of the stairs. “Mommy, where are you?”

“In here,” I say, and Stephen draws back, no longer crowding the board and table.

Landon comes running into the living room full tilt. “I had a bad dream.”