Even though my body and mind were exhausted, it was hard to fall asleep. And after my latest nightmare—which involved Keisha and Micah—I couldn’t go back to sleep.

In my dream, Micah had turned against us and killed us all one by one, starting with Keisha. He saved me for last and took his time between saying sweet things in my ear, which in another situation would have made me kiss him, and torturing me.

So, at four thirty in the morning, I was in my workout clothes, in the gym, hoping to burn off some energy so I could go back to sleep—nightmare-less—later.

I turned on the treadmill and ran. I focused on keeping my mind clear, my only attention on the rhythm of my breathing and the soft thud of my footsteps.

Almost an hour of nothing passed.

“Morning, darling.” Micah’s voice startled me, and I tripped, almost falling from the treadmill.

Cursing, I hopped off and turned to him, intent on ignoring him because if I let myself stay near him, I would lash out. I would breakdown and accuse him of things I knew weren’t his fault.

Then I saw him and my heart skipped. I froze in place, my next breath stuck in my throat.

It wasn’t even his unnatural good looks that had stopped me—he looked fresh and clean, as if he had just taken a shower and shaved. The black pants and black tee and bare feet made him looked relaxed. And his face … I couldn’t even think when paying attention to the sharp lines of his perfect face. What had stopped me and disarmed me was the tray in his hands.

“What’s that?” I asked, glancing at the tray.

He stared at it. “I thought it was obvious. Waffles, eggs, toast, and coffee. Breakfast?”

I swallowed. “You made all that?”

He nodded. “Just now. Brought to you fresh from the oven.”

After what he had done, I wanted to hate him. I wanted to scream at him. But after my shock had passed, after I accepted I was mourning and that I had to mourn Keisha, I admitted it hadn’t been Micah’s fault. I knew deep in my heart he had never meant to hurt her, and it was terrible of me to blame him for it.

Like him, I had killed one of ours and I knew how that guilt, that weight, could eat at one’s soul and mind.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head once. “Why?”

He tilted his head to the side. “I …” He set the tray on one of the weight-lifting benches. “Look, I know you hate my guts right now, and I want you to know that I understand why you hate me. The Fates know there are too many reasons for that.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I came in here with a peace offering, knowing all too well that it was a long shot. A really long shot. So, here it is. Your breakfast.” He picked up one of the coffee mugs from the tray, and then turned toward the door.

Now I felt like the biggest jerk.

“Wait,” I said. He stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Hmm, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I thought he was going to keep going. Instead, he whirled on his heels and faced me again. “I … I also came in here to tell you something.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Oh?”

Micah cupped his mug with both hands. “I’m leaving in a few minutes.”

The air was knocked out of my lungs. He was leaving? Again?

I tried to compose myself and relax my shocked expression. “May I ask where you’re going?”

He averted his eyes. “All you have to know is that I’m going on a mission with Levi, and, hopefully, we’ll be back in a day or two.”

All you have to know …

That stung. It was like after everything I had done for them, after all we had been through together, I was still a disposable piece on the game board. They didn’t need me. They didn’t want me here. They couldn’t care less about what happened to me. Why share anything important with Nadine? Because she didn’t matter.

“All right,” I said, noticing how my voice wavered and feeling completely embarrassed for it. His gaze came back to mine and I held his stare. Firm and unflinching.

“I just … I wanted to say goodbye this time, before leaving.”

I held my breath. Here he was breaking my heart while being so thoughtful. Why couldn’t I really hate him? It would be so much easier. “Good luck,” I whispered.

A muscle in his jaw ticked and he nodded. “Thanks.”

“That’s too much food.” I pointed to the tray. “If you’re not leaving right now, and if you don’t mind the current company, it would be okay for you to eat some.” That had been the lamest attempt at peace in the history of our world. God, I was so lame.

One corner of Micah’s lips tugged up. “To be honest, I wasn’t going to eat anything right now, but I think I’ll make an exception because of the current company.”

And just like that, we sat on the floor, one on each side of the bench, and ate breakfast in a comforting silence, simply enjoying being together without bickering or pushing each other’s buttons.