Page 267 of When a Soul Cries

“You can keep telling yourself that.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder, and his quiet laugh followed me back toward the table.

A few minutes later, after we’d gotten Halo cleaned up and the food put away, Rome stood in the living room looking around the townhouse again.

“You like it here?”

The question softened something in me.

I followed his gaze toward the living room—the furniture I’d already picked out, the boxes I still hadn’t unpacked, Halo’s toys scattered near the couch.

“Yeah.” I smiled. “I love it.”

He nodded. “Good.”

Something about the way he said it made me look at him more closely.

“You don’t sound happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Rome.”

He rubbed his palm over his beard and glanced around the room before looking back at me.

“I told you I didn’t want you to take it.”

“You knew I needed to.”

“I did.” His gaze settled on me. “Still don’t mean I wanted y’all to leave.”

I leaned against the island.

Rome picked up Halo’s cup from the table and carried it to the sink. “My house quiet now.”

I smiled faintly. “You complained when it wasn’t.”

“Yeah, well.” He turned around and leaned back against the counter. “Apparently I liked having something to complain about.”

A laugh escaped me, but his expression didn’t stay playful for long.

“I got used to you being there.”

The humor in my face faded.

I looked down at the edge of the island, running my finger along it. “It’s quieter here too.”

Rome’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

I immediately regretted saying it.

“So you miss me.”

I looked back at him. “Don’t push it.”

His smile came slowly, but he didn’t tease me any further.

Instead, he pushed away from the counter and walked closer.