Page 80 of Sighs By the Sea

Nervously, I watch as she sits down and picks up her burger. On her first bite, she lets out a moan of approval, her eyes closing in bliss. "God, I wish I could eat like this every day."

I take my first bite, savoring the perfect blend of flavors. "You can, my darling."

She barks out a laugh, then covers her mouth. "You looking to become my personal chef?"

"Maybe someday," I say with a shrug. She doesn’t need to know I’ve already pictured it a thousand times—her coming home after a long day of work to find me and George waiting at the table. Cooking for her, cleaning for her, sleeping next to her every night.

It’s my new dream, what keeps me going when the loneliness threatens to overwhelm me.

She sets her burger down and sighs, looking out the dining room window. The soft light filters in, casting a warm glow on her face. "You okay?" I ask, setting my own food aside.

"Oh. Yep! This is great." Too eagerly, she picks up her burger again and takes a giant bite. I don’t touch my meal.

"Maggie?" All at once, she breaks into sobs. I’m on my feet and by her side in an instant. "What is it?" I ask, nearly breathless with worry.

She shakes her head, but that won’t do. I need to fix whatever’s making her cry like this. "Maggie, talk to me. What’s going on?"

"I can’t, Gray." I gently wipe the tears from her cheeks, my brow furrowing in concern. "Can’t what, baby?"

"Leave!" she screams, almost frantic.

"Oh," I say, looking down at the floor. Admitting that I don’t want her to leave either might make things worse. "That’s tomorrow, though. A whole day away." I try to smile, but all I manage is a fleeting twitch of my lips.

"One night?" she scoffs. "And then another entire week without you and George?"

"George isn’t here, Maggie," I say sternly. Being reminded that my son is miles away, and that Maggie will be gone tomorrow, makes my own eyes sting with unshed tears.

"You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t obsess over imagining you here alone every single night?"

I kneel beside her, the hardwood cool under my knees. "I’m fine, Maggie."

She barks out a bitter laugh, then stands, pacing the room. "You are not fine, Gray. Pretend all you want, but you’re not. I can hear it in your voice every time we talk."

I’m stuck in stunned silence as she paces the dining room. "I’m a cop, Gray. A cop!" she yells, as if I don’t already know.

My worry slowly morphs into amusement. Seeing her worked up over me is oddly endearing. "I know that."

She spins to face me. "And cops are respected!" I barely contain my giggle. "Yes, of course."

"Even to gangs. They won’t just do a drive-by. Well, maybe one or two would, but not for a measly fifty grand. And if the force knew I was in danger, they’d keep an eye on us. Way better than SDPD because I’m one of their own. We protect each other."

Finally, I stand, starting to understand what she’s getting at. She continues, her voice gaining momentum. "He could come home, Gray. I’d keep him safe. Keep you both safe. And I wouldn’t have to worry so much—worry if you’re sleeping, if you’re dead." She goes back to pacing while my mind races to catch up.

My eyes track her every movement. "What are you saying, Maggie?"

She freezes, then spins around to face me, her eyes blazing with newfound confidence. "Move in with me."

I run a hand over my forehead, exhaling heavily. "Maggie," I say with an exasperated sigh. She steps closer, pulling my hand down. "I’m serious, Gray!"

"It’s selfish," I reply.

"I know that! But I can’t help it. I want you. I want George. I want us."

"Not for you! For me. I can’t risk you like that, or ask you to do that."

Her hands clasp mine, their warmth grounding me. "I’m offering. I want it so bad, I feel like I can’t breathe. Henrietta suggested it, and Tilly—Tilly, Gray!—encouraged it!"

I release her grip and rub the top of my head, the other hand resting on my hip. Tilly encouraged it? That’s surprising. But Maggie wouldn’t lie or embellish. I try to talk myself out of it, listing all the reasons why it’s a bad idea. But she’s already dismissed so many concerns. My family would approve, meaning my job would be safe. George could come home. He might even be safer here than in Oregon if what she’s saying about the police force is true. "It’s been a month, Maggie." I know it’s a weak excuse, but it’s the only one I can find. Because deep down, I want it too. So much that my chest tightens and my stomach knots with the back-and-forth in my own head.

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