---

It feels colder than usual as I walk down the sidewalk. It’s empty, not a soul in sight. Not even down the alleyways and in the dark shadows. Someone’s always there. Always watching and waiting.

But not tonight.

My boots crunch the light snow beneath my feet and fog fills my vision with each step I take to get home.

The light outside the townhouse flickers and catches my attention.

The silent night and darkness set in just as I walk up the stairs and open the door.

It’s so quiet and my first thought is that I’m grateful she isn’t crying anymore. Ever since I told her the truth, Kat hasn’t been the same.

She looks at me the way I’ve always looked at myself. She’s always sad now, with red-rimmed eyes and an expression of shame, and it’s all because of me. I ruined her like I knew I would.

I call out to her in the townhouse. It’s the same as it’s always been, but there’s an emptiness to it. A feeling that emanates from the white walls down into my bones.

“Kat!” I call out again, and my voice echoes from the kitchen.

My boots crunch although there is no snow.

My breathing picks up and again fog clouds my vision as I walk toward the kitchen. “Kat,” I say her name but I already know she can’t hear me.

The white mist fades and I see her. Just as she was yesterday, balled up on the floor, but she’s not crying anymore.

Crimson red has seeped into her clothes.

“Kat,” her name slips from me in disbelief as tears flow freely and I run to her.

“No!” I scream as her limp body falls on the floor and her eyes stare back at me, lifeless, but still red-rimmed.

A note falls from nowhere as I cradle her, rocking her and screaming for it not to be true. Praying for God to take it back. It flutters to the floor with an elegance I hate in this moment. I can’t let go of Kat; I grip her tighter, reading the words as the ink on the paper appears slowly. The script is feminine and delicate.

You should have let me go. You should have protected me.

It’s all your fault.

And then I hear a baby scream.

---

My eyes shoot open. My body’s stiff and hot as my heart races, pounding in my chest like a war drum. Heavy, hard and unforgiving. It’s just a nightmare.

“Kat,” I whisper her name and move suddenly, shaking the bed as I put my arm around her.

It’s the soft moan from her sleep that keeps me from shaking her.

My heart still pounds in my chest as she breathes easily beside me.

As if nothing’s wrong. Like nothing’s happened.

I blink away the sleep and terror as the early morning light streams into the room and the city traffic drowns out the gentle and steady sounds of Kat’s breathing.

My body’s heavy as I lie back into the bed, wiping the sweat from my brow and trying to forget the look on her face as I held her in my arms in the nightmare.

It’s hard to swallow, and the fear is nearly crippling.

It’s not real, I whisper. But I know with everything in me it’s so much more.

Time ticks by slowly, and sleep doesn’t come again for me.

I didn’t lie just once last night. I lied twice.

The need to be with her made me do it. The need to hold on to her love and let her feel how much I love her. I had to take her pain away. But that makes today that much harder.

There are only two truths I know.

Someone’s trying to kill me and if they can’t get me, they’ll come for her.

But only if they know we’re still together. And right now, no one does.

I love Kat too much.

I almost leave a note after going through my dresser drawer, knowing there was nothing in there to take, but making sure nothing was left behind. The first thing I’m doing is having a security system installed. This shit won’t happen again and that’s how I was going to start the note.

I wanted to write one for Kat to say goodbye and that I’ll be back then leave before she wakes.

But she deserves to at least know why I’m leaving. Only for a little while. Only until I know she’s safe.

---

“The doctor’s appointment is at one I think,” Kat says sleepily and I turn, my body stiff, to face her slowly. My eyes burn from the lack of sleep, but I don’t care.

I welcome the pain.

“You’re finally awake,” I answer her and prepare myself for what I have to do.

The world thinks we’ve broken up. And it has to stay that way.

“You’ve been up long?” she asks me and yawns.

“Kat,” I say her name and swallow my words.

I’ve been thinking about them all morning, the images of the nightmare feeling more and more real. And every possibility for what could happen running on a loop in my mind.

“I have to tell you something,” I tell her as I stare at the dresser across the room. I look in the mirror but I can’t see our reflection, only the closed door to the bedroom.

“It’s only for a short time, but I have to go do something.”

“What do you mean?” she asks and then sits upright. She reaches out for me, her soft, small hand gripping on to my shoulder so she can have my attention.

“I mean, I don’t think I can go to the appointment today.”

Her expression falls and she visibly retreats, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping the blanket tightly around her.

“Why not?” she asks with a little heat in her words. With every second that passes, I can see her getting angrier. “What’s more important?”

“I don’t think we should be seen in public together,” I tell her and swallow the painful lump in my throat. No one knows we’re together or that she’s pregnant. “This has to stay a secret.”

“Are you serious?” she asks me.

“Kat, I have to take care of some things.”

“Bullshit! You don’t have to do it! What about us? Our baby,” she says and her voice cracks. “What about taking care of us?”

“I am,” I tell her and my words come out strangled, shattering the delicate balance that was here only a moment ago.

“If you walk through that door, you’re not coming back.” Kat’s voice shakes as she points a finger at me. Her eyes are wide and the grief I feel is reflected in them. “You can’t keep doing this to me. I can’t keep … ” she trails off and hiccups, on the verge of tears.

“It’s only for a short while,” I tell her to reassure her.

“I don’t understand.” Kat shakes her head as if she thinks I’m crazy. As if what I’m saying is incomprehensible and maybe it is, but it’s okay. The less she knows, the safer she is. And that’s the only thing that matters.

“I have something I have to finish.”

“You need to stop this, Evan. Please. I’m ready to move forward. We have a baby coming. We can do this, but you can’t keep going backward.”

God I wish she knew.

I could try to outrun it, but not with her by my side. I’ll fight it and come back to her. I just need her to have faith. And I know she will. The last thought is what moves me to put space between us.

“Just believe me when I say I love you, but I can’t be with you right now.”

“Stop it! Stop it, Evan. Please! I don’t care what it is, just leave it behind and stay with me. Please, I’m begging you.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her and hate that I’m causing her pain.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispers. “I can’t believe … I can’t … ”

“I love you, Kat, but I can’t do this right now.” The words come out as if I’m ending it with her and that’s when I realize it’s what I have to do.

To protect her and my baby.

“I swear to God, if you walk out of that door, Evan, it’s over. I’m done playing games. You’re here or you’re not.” Her words are restrained as she says them, each one looking more and more painful.

My chest tightens with an unbearable sorrow as I whisper, “I’m sorry, Kat.”