This was a terror of mine. It made no sense. After what had happened with Tommy, I decided never to have children.

But sometimes I woke up at night in a cold sweat, having dreamed some enemy of my father or Georgia had decided they should pay through my babies.

Or that I'd done something and my father or Georgia used my babies to pay.

No, I never intended to have any children.

I was also worried because Nick's text could be construed not as upset, but as anger.

I'd bought him that painting. It had been days ago now and I'd heard nothing.

But maybe he didn't like it.

That said, he had a right to refuse it and I'd told the handsome Ralphie who worked at the gallery to be certain Nick knew he had that right. So it wasn't like I was forcing it on him.

But maybe he didn't want memories of me. Maybe when he found the girl he couldn't build in a dream, he didn't want to look at a five thousand dollar painting and remember me. Maybe he thought I was being clingy by giving it to him after he'd ended things so definitively, even if my note didn't say clingy.

However, none of that prompted an angry Come over. Now. just so he could share that with me. He could simply tell Ralphie he didn't want it and continue to ignore me.

So no.

I didn't think that was it.

I just hoped whatever it was-Knight, Anya, one of Nick's nieces-that it would be okay.

And I tried not to think about how much it meant that if it was Knight, Anya, anything, he had called on me.

By the time I swung in the spot beside Nick's Jag, I was so frantic, it didn't register I was back at his place. A place I never thought I'd be again. But even so, it was a place I thought of daily, even hourly, wis.h.i.+ng I'd have the chance to go back, just once more, but better, whenever the spirit moved me because in the perfect world of daydreams, it, like Nick, belonged to me.

No, I didn't think of that.

I just quickly got out of my car, closed the door and felt my heart slam in my chest when I looked up to Nick's unit and saw his door already rolling open.

He always knew when I arrived, probably heard my car, but he never opened his door before I hit the stairs.

This made me do that: hit the stairs and fast, running as best I could in skirt and heels.

Nick met me halfway up.

And the pain in his face sent a slice of terror through my heart.

"Nick," I whispered, stopping on the step beside him, lifting my hand to rest it on his chest, my eyes glued to his. "Oh G.o.d, sweetheart. What's happened?"

For some reason as I spoke, I watched the pain score deeper.

But he didn't answer. He tore my hand from his chest, his fingers closing around mine so hard they hurt. He then dragged me up the steps so fast, I tripped and almost fell.

He didn't seem to notice. He just kept dragging me until he'd pulled me into his unit. He stopped abruptly to slide the door closed.

The jerk his sudden stop sent through my arm made me fall into him, but I didn't care.

I was all about Nick.

When he bolted the door and turned to me, I yanked my hand from his, lifted both to his chest and leaned in. So intent on him, I didn't notice him walking forward, hands to my hips, shuffling me back.

I just begged, "Talk to me."

He didn't talk to me.

He stared down at me, the blue of his eyes openly turbulent, the frank honesty of emotion something he'd never given me.

Which meant it had to be bad.

"G.o.d, honey. What's happened?" I whispered.

He didn't answer.

"Is it Knight?" I asked cautiously.

Vaguely, I noted him stopping us so we were just standing there, touching but unmoving.

"Anya?" I pressed carefully.

"You don't intend to do it," he stated.

I stared at him, confused.

"Sorry?" I asked.

His fingers dug into my hips and he declared, "You want me to be happy."

I felt my head twitch, now more confused.

"I...I don't get it." I shook my head. "I mean, yes. Of course. I want you to be happy. Though, I don't get-"

"But you don't intend to do it," he repeated.

At what I thought he was saying, my heart twisted and I had to curl my fingers into his s.h.i.+rt at his chest to help support me.

"Sorry?" I breathed.

"You don't intend to do it."

I let him go in order to s.h.i.+ft away.

Nick's fingers went from my hips and his arms rounded me.

Tight.

Slamming me into his body.

"Sebring-"

He bent his face close to mine and barked, "Nick," so fiercely I winced.

I tensed as I asked, "What's happening?"

"Got your painting, Olivia. Got your note," he explained but it didn't explain anything. "You want me to be happy. But you don't intend to do it."

I didn't intend to do it.

He was right; I didn't intend to do it.

What he would never know was that I'd die and kill to have the privilege of making him happy.

It just wasn't an ability life afforded me.

"We both know I can't be that for you," I reminded him.

"Yeah," he bit out like he had to expel the word because it tasted beyond foul. "What you know that I don't is that you can't be that for anybody."

I went completely still.

"Can you?" he clipped but didn't wait for my answer. "You can't be that for anybody."

"Sebring-"

His arms gave me a squeeze. "Nick."

I shook my head. "Why are we-?"

"Good question, Olivia. Why? Why can't you be that for anybody? Why can't you be happy?"

We hadn't been together for weeks.

How had he figured so much of this out?

I cautiously tried to pull away.

His arms got tight and this time they didn't loosen.

I stopped trying to pull away.

"We're rewinding," he decreed. "I know why you can't be that for me. I know why I can't share why you can't be that for me. What I wanna know is why you think you can't be that for me."

"You can't share and I get that. You have to get why I can't share."

"No, I don't."

"You have to."

He bent close to me. "Your father is a piece of s.h.i.+t. Planet'd be better if he was obliterated from it. Not sure about your sister, but thinkin' she's much the same. Know you got soldiers who deserve a bed in the dirt."

At his words, I wrenched in his arms but he held fast.

I again went still and kept my hands between us to give as much distance as he would afford me.

"That's part of why I can't have you. But you're not about that. You're not them. You haven't shared that with me. I still know it down to my b.a.l.l.s. You know it too 'cause you live it. So why won't you let yourself have me?" he asked.

You're not them.

Yes, he'd figured me out.

"Sebring-"

He lost it.

"Nick!" he thundered, giving me an abrupt, rough shake.

"Nick," I whispered, pressing my hands into his chest, not to get away but in a gesture I hoped was soothing.

He stilled and the tumult of his eyes calmed.

G.o.d, just that, his name and a simple touch from me and he calmed.

Was he that attuned to me?

"Who burned you?" he whispered back.

Oh no.

I closed my eyes.

"Livvie."

My throat clogged.

No one called me Livvie.

No one.

Livvie didn't exist.

Not for anyone.

But me.

"Baby, who burned you?" Nick pushed gently.