“Rest it is then,” I say, pulling the covers back and climbing into bed. Mercy stands awkwardly on the other side of the bed, her face painted with a faint layer of vulnerability. “What are we—” she begins to say but I cut her off, uninterested in having any type of discussion about any of it. Not now. “Pretend,” I plead. The word lingers between us as I extend my hand, wordlessly inviting her to bed.
