I looked at the leftover pizza on the cookie sheet. The empty bottle of wine on the counter. The TV we had left on before we spent the rest of the night in AJ’s bed. I buried my head in my hands.
I couldn’t leave him. Not when I just got him back. Not after he swore to keep me safe and love me.
But I held the texts in my hands. I didn’t have a choice.
I dressed quickly and silently, heaving my bag of gear and carrying my bag to the front door. AJ never moved.
My eye fell to his gun on the counter. I grabbed it before I could talk myself out of it. There were a lot of things I was going to have to atone for after this.
I scribbled a note for him on the counter. I hoped he understood. I hoped he could forgive me. He was going to be pissed I left before the debrief. He was going to be hurt I walked out like this.
I stared at the alarm code on the wall and took a chance. I entered my birthday.
The alarm beeped once and I opened the door. I looked over my shoulder, but forced myself into the hall.
There wasn’t time to wake him up and explain. There wasn’t time to convince him he had to let me go this once.
I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. Everything in my body told me to go back inside and crawl in bed with AJ. To wrap myself around him and wake up next to him like any normal woman would have after toe-curling, orgasmic make-up sex. I should have. But that wasn’t me. It wasn’t the Sydney Miller that had grown and changed over the past five years. I couldn’t let this go. I couldn’t ignore the texts. And I sure as hell didn’t want to talk to the FBI.
I had to do this. I had to pray the man I loved would still take my back when I was done.