I begged off. It’s been three days since I found out I killed the only man I’ve ever loved. I’ve spent every minute of them trying to figure out how to live with myself. I’m in the kitchen when Wes knocks at the front door. I heard him drive in a few minutes ago and send Tanner and Jeff on their way. Rob is the only one up, other than me. He’s on the sofa, coffee mug in one hand and TV remote in the other. I know he still blames me for all of this. I talked him out of killing Oliver, then Oliver escaped on my watch. I give Rob the eye that he should get the door. “It’s open,” he yells without moving. I cut him a glare as Wes strides in. “Good news,” he says, and my stomach cramps remembering the last time I heard him use those words. “DOJ’s given us the go-ahead to lift your guard detail.” He comes to where I’m standing and slides the front section of yesterday’s Chicago Tribune onto the counter in front of me.
