Planting her hands on her hips, she arched an eyebrow at him. “So why were you going to make Boris come here with boxes and bins to pack everything up?” Silas shrugged. “He likes to keep busy. Who am I to deny him?” She laughed and picked up her duffle. “Will you at least let me pack this on my own? For normalcy’s sake?” Flicking his gaze up to the smudged ceiling, he said, “If you must.” Thirty minutes, and more expletives than he could count, later and Ivy had her bag packed, the spoiled leftovers from her fridge tossed, and her trash taken out.
