I didn’t want to figure anything out with Mateo. I wanted to drag Locke inside with me and pull Orla into his strong arms so they could keep each other safe and whole until I came home. But I didn’t know how to articulate that, and Locke was done with the conversation. He lit another smoke and turned his back on me. I opened Orla’s door and slipped inside, shutting him out, and it felt so fucking wrong, it was a physical pain in my chest. A hurt only one person could shift.
