Page 40 of Sanctuary

Cared for.

That’s how I feel, and I don’t actually know why.

Aidan and I aren’t even supposed to like each other.

All of that has changed now—for him as much as for me. We might have been rivals before, but we aren’t anymore. I’m not even sure we’re only friends.

We’re more than that. Something deeper.

It’s still inchoate. Unspoken. And it still terrifies me when I think about it too much. But it’s impossible to deny.

Maybe it’s those swirling, jittery thoughts that keep me awake tonight. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been sleeping long nights and napping during the days ever since we arrived in this church.

Whatever the reason, I lie awake even after Aidan’s body relaxes behind me. His breathing is so steady I assume he’s asleep, so I twitch when he says into the silence, “What’s troubling you, love?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you lying to me? Do you honestly think I can’t recognize when you aren’t telling me the truth?”

I think about that question. It’s unnerving. That he can see whether or not I’m lying. “I’m not really troubled,” I explain. “Just distracted.”

“By what?”

By him. But it’s too much risk to admit that.

“By everything. Being stuck here with you. Not feeling like you’re an enemy anymore.”

“Were you happier hating me?”

“No. But it felt…” I gulp. “Safer.”

“I know what you mean. I think… I keep thinking I resisted you so intensely because it felt safer for me too.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Then finally murmurs, “Connecting emotionally is much more difficult—much more dangerous—than seeing someone else as an enemy. Empathy exposes us as much as the other person.”

I lick my lips. Feel kind of shaky so I nestle back into his embrace.

He continues, “Especially when—like you and me—you’ve been trying to avoid it for so long.”

“Yeah. I guess we’re kind of the same.”

Aidan has been running away from his past and his pain just as much as I have. Until finally, here on this mountain, here in this church, we’ve both been made to stop.

“We are. In a lot of ways.” He moves his head behind mine, like maybe he’s gently nuzzling my hair. “But in other ways we aren’t.”

“What ways?”

“You never stopped being a good person as you ran.”

“You didn’t—”

“Are you seriously arguing with me about this? You know perfectly well the kind of people I’ve worked with, including the ones who most hurt you.”

“But that was before. You’ve not been doing it lately. And I’m the last person to judge someone else for doing what theyneed to do when they’re backed into a corner. Survival instincts sometimes… sometimes break us.”

“Maybe. But they didn’t completely break you. Not the way they broke me.”

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