"Why?"
"I need answers, Raul." Her eyes flick past me into the trailer, not judging, just… taking it in. Like she's piecing something together.
"For what?"
"You disappeared on me." She shrugs, simple as that.
"I didn't."
She waits.
"I just want to know why. Please."
Something in her voice, or maybe the look in her eyes, tugs hard enough that I step aside and let her in.
She steps inside, and the trailer suddenly feels even smaller.
Olivia glances around without making a big deal out of it. The worn futon, the stack of empty beer cans I meant to take out, the single bulb overhead casting long shadows on the paneled walls. She doesn't say a word about any of it, but I can feel her seeing it all.
I close the door behind her and turn, the gun still tucked against my back like a guilty secret.
She sets the AirTag on the little kitchen counter and crosses her arms, waiting.
"So," she says. "Talk."
I lean against the counter, buying time. "What do you want me to say?"
"Why you ghosted me."
"I didn't ghost you." The words come out defensive. I hate how they sound. "I've been busy."
She tilts her head. "Busy doing what?"
"Work. Family stuff."
Her eyes narrow just a little. "You've been at the bar three nights this week. Didn't say a word to me."
I shift my weight, the sweatpants suddenly feeling too thin without a shirt. "It's my job."
"Raul."
The way she says my name cuts right through the bullshit.
I drag a hand through my hair and look away, staring at the floor like it might give me answers. "Look, it's not you. It's me."
She lets out a small, frustrated laugh. "That's such a line."
"It's not." I meet her eyes again, and fuck, that was a mistake. She's looking at me like she actually cares what I say next. "You got too close."
Her brows lift. "Too close how?"
I swallow. The words stick in my throat. "I'm not… what you think I am."
She doesn't move. Doesn't blink. "Then tell me what you are."
Everything in me wants to shut this down. Send her away. Keep the walls up.
But she's standing in my trailer in the middle of the night, having tracked me down because she wouldn't let it go.