8 Chapter 8

“Don’t go to Norway,” I said, pushing my face into his broad chest. “I’m willing to—to—to try and forgive you.”

He tensed in my arms, as though my words had wounded him. “Derek. I’m burned out. My nervous system is fucked up.” He wouldn’t let me go and I didn’t want him to, either. “I haven’t slept in weeks. I drink too much. When you walked out, I lost the most precious thing in my life, but I lost something else, too, something I always counted on to get me ahead, my integrity.”

“Your integrity is not in Norway.” I looked up at him. “Stay and deal with this.”