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thing.  I would’ve begged to never be apart, but was that even a possibility with the path our lives had taken?  Just to see him I had to devise a plan that would allow me to sneak away from my bodyguard by shimmying down a tree.  Was that something I could spend the rest of my life doing?  Just for a few breaths of unconditional love?  While I contemplated my response, he pushed himself back, bouncing on the bed, and staring at the ceiling.  I slowly followed suit, focusing my thoughts on the shapes of the cracks around the light fixture.
    I inhaled deeply, prepared to pour out my confession that I would do anything he asked of me, but instead bluntly admitted, “I could sleep.”
    “Yes,” he agreed, as he turned onto his side, bringing my focus back to him.
    “Is that okay?”
    He looked at me, confused.  “Grace, why wouldn’t it be okay?”
    It was a rhetorical question; he didn’t need an answer.  He lightly pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.  His eyes closed, and his face relaxed.  I did the same.  I could feel my body sinking deeper into the mattress as my exhaustion took hold of my muscles.  Images of Ryan raced through my mind as my body prepared itself for sleep.  I felt the whole of my being give way to the comfort.  For the first time in days, there were no nightmares.
    I was pulled from my deep slumber by the sound of my phone.  It was startling at first; I couldn’t remember the last time I was in such a restful state.  I turned to roll off the bed when I felt Ryan’s hands on my waist.
    “No.”  It wasn’t a command, it was more of a plea.
    The call was most likely from Mr. Muscles, begging for me to tell him where I’d been hiding.  I would not.  Still, Ryan’s hands around me made my body shudder.  I needed a reason to stand, a reason to remove myself from his grip.  He must have seen the trepidation in my eyes.
    “Grace, what can I do?”
    “I just need time.”
    “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”
    “I’m not.”
    “Something about you is scared.  What aren’t you telling me?”
    I stalled.  “Nothing.”
    “I would never hurt you.”
    “And I know that.”
    “Do you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Grace, do you?  You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.”
    His repetition made the question sink in deeper.  I looked away, not wanting to face the answer.
    “Don’t look away from me.”  He took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward his.  As he did, he sat up, bringing our lips nearly together.  I silently begged for him to kiss me and to stay away.  How was I so conflicted?  “I love you Grace Brennan, and if you wanted me to, I would kiss you so hard right now.  I would remind you of the passion we felt for each other before we knew the dangers of our love.”  He leaned in closer and whispered his hot breath into my ear.  “I would give you so much pleasure you’d forget why you’re refusing to let me touch you right now.”
    My body warmed at his seduction.  Could I?  What was holding me back?  I wanted to answer him.  I wanted to jump on top of him and show him the same pleasure he teased me with.  But I sat silent, still.
    “You know I love you, right?”  His words were hurried.  He was obviously shocked that I didn’t fall victim to his offer.
    I nodded.
    “Tell me you love me.”
    My nostrils flared, and my lips pressed together.
    “Tell me you love me.”
    He was more forceful, annoyed at my lack of commitment.
    “Goddammit, Grace.”  He stood, releasing me from his touch.  “Let me help you.  Tell me what the hell is going on in your head.”  With his last word, he punched his fist through the wall.  I yelped, the sound catching me off guard.
    “Fuck!” He screamed as he pulled his hand out from shattered plaster.  Ryan turned back to me, displaying his scratched and bleeding fingers.  “Did I hurt you?”
    “What?”  I asked.  It seemed obvious that I was nowhere near him when