It was an absent-minded gesture, she knew. Nathan was reading through one of the numerous files he’d pulled from his bag earlier, and she’d stretched out on the couch beside him, lazy and tired, with her head resting on his thigh. She sighed, caught between the warm, contented feeling that had filled and surrounded her for weeks now and the budding panic that this was all coming to an end. She’d gotten used to spending her days exploring the city and her evenings with Nathan. More often than not, she’d return to the apartment before him, and the rightness of that, of being there to welcome him home each night, scared the hell out of her. Even the time they’d had together Sunday—all day, just the two of them—hadn’t fulfilled her the same way the day-to-day did. The problem? It was now Tuesday, and, in less than a week, she’d have to walk away from all of this. From Nathan. As much as she wanted to go home—she missed her kids, her friends, even her job—the idea of never seeing him again and losing what they’d built in the time they’d been together made her want to weep.
