Chapter 40

Evangelina

They’ve been gone for hours, and each tick of the clock feels like an eternity. Sleep is out of the question. Every time I close my eyes, my mind conjures worst-case scenarios. So, I pace the small kitchen of the safe house, the worn linoleum floor creaking under my feet. The other agents must think I’ve lost it, but I can’t stop moving.

I run my hands over the counters, wiping them down for what must be the hundredth time. There’s no mess. There hasn’t been a mess for hours. But my hands need something to do, some outlet for the swirling storm inside me. If I stand still, the anxiety will swallow me whole.

I glance at the clock again. Midnight. They left at what… eight? It feels like days have passed. Where are they? Where’s Benedict?

Nate’s asleep in the back room, his little body curled up under the covers. I checked on him about ten times, just to make sure he’s still breathing, safe and sound. I envy his ability to sleep through all of this. But I’m stuck here, my thoughts a whirlwind of everything that could be going wrong. What if Benedict doesn’t come back? What if Christopher gets away again? What if this never ends?

I try to imagine what they’re doing right now. Benedict, moving through the shadows, taking down the men who’ve ruined our lives. I think of his face, the way he looked at me before he left—so much intensity, like he was silently promising to come back. I have to believe him. I have to believe he’ll keep that promise.

But doubt creeps in, slithering through the cracks. I scrub at the counters harder, as if I can erase the worry from my mind along with the nonexistent stains.

The agents stationed here with me try to make small talk, but I barely respond. Their words sound distant, like they’re underwater, muffled by the chaos in my brain. I nod and smile when I’m supposed to, but they must see right through it. I’m not really here with them. I’m out there with Benedict, hoping, praying he comes back in one piece.

I stop pacing and grip the edge of the counter, breathing deeply to keep the panic at bay. He’ll come back. He has to. I tell myself that over and over, clinging to the thought like a lifeline.

But the silence of the safe house feels suffocating. The walls close in around me, the weight of uncertainty pressing down.

And when he comes back, then what? The mission will be over. No more undercover priest. No more lies about who he is. His cover has been blown, and with it, any pretense we had of keeping things simple. Will he just pack up and leave, head back to wherever agents like him come from, moving on to the next assignment like nothing happened?

And if he does, what does that mean for us? Was there ever really an us, or was it all just a lie wrapped in layers of danger and secrets? My mind races with all the questions I’ve been pushing down. I want answers, but I’m terrified of what they’ll be.

The kitchen feels colder all of a sudden, and I wrap my arms around myself, staring at the spot where Benedict stood just hours ago. We’ve been through so much together, but I still don’t know if what we had was real or just part of the mission.

I catch myself imagining what life would look like without him. A part of me aches at the thought of him just walking away. Leaving me and Nate behind, like a ghost disappearing into the night. I hate that I’ve gotten so used to him being here.

But what if he doesn’t want the same thing? What if, when this is all over, I’m just another assignment he has to move on from?

Suddenly, headlights cut through the darkness outside, flooding the kitchen with harsh white light. I freeze for a second, my breath catching in my throat. The car pulls into the driveway, and I recognize the SUV. It’s the same one Benedict left in to meet the chopper earlier. My heart stumbles in my chest as I rush to the window, peering out from behind the curtain.

My hands shake as I press them to the glass, watching as he steps out of the SUV. The sight of him brings a flood of relief.

I see him. Benedict. Alive. Safe.

I let out an audible breath, the tension that’s been knotting my muscles for hours finally easing, if only slightly. He’s back. He made it.

He’s here now, but what happens next?

I don’t know what the future holds, but in this moment, I don’t care. He’s safe. That’s all that matters right now.

The agents swarm the driveway, their voices blending together as they exchange details about the mission. There’s a flurry of movement as they debrief, radios crackling, but I can’t focus on any of it. My eyes are glued to one person. Benedict.

His face is illuminated by the porch light. His expression is tired but relieved, and the moment I see him, something in me shifts. A weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying lifts, and before I can think twice, my feet move of their own accord.

I rush toward him, my heart pounding in my chest. For a moment, time seems to slow as I cross the distance between us. He sees me, his lips curling into a soft, exhausted smile. Then, his arms open wide, and I practically throw myself into him, needing to feel the solidity of his presence, the warmth of his embrace.

Benedict pulls me close, enveloping me in his strong arms, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel safe. Truly safe. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him. His heart beats steady and strong beneath my cheek, and I cling to him, not wanting to let go.

He leans down, pressing his lips gently to the top of my head. "I'm here," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "I told you I’d come back."

Tears well in my eyes, but this time they aren’t from fear or uncertainty. They’re from relief, from the overwhelming realization that we’re both still here, together. "You did," I whisper back, my voice thick with emotion.

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spill over. His gaze locks with mine, and in that moment, everything else fades away. The mission, the danger, the lies—none of it matters anymore. Not right now.

"We got him.” His eyes search mine. “He’s dead.”

I feel hollow, not reacting to the news of my ex-husband’s death. So many emotions take over, and I focus on Benedict’s light-blue eyes.

“You’re safe now.”

Tears well in my eyes as I listen to the words he’s telling me. Safe. Nate and I are safe. The tears fall faster now, relief evident.

Benedict swipes the tears away. “I’m done with all the secrets, Eva," he says softly, his forehead resting against mine. "No more pretending. No more undercover. I want to be here with you and Nate. For real."

My breath catches, and for a second, I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. "Are you sure?" I ask, my voice trembling. "What about your job? Your life?"

He shakes his head, smiling down at me with such tenderness it makes my heart ache. "You and Nate are my life now. If you’ll have me, that is."

A tear slips down my cheek, and I laugh through the overwhelming emotion, nodding. "Of course I’ll have you."

Without another word, Benedict leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s soft yet full of promises. It’s not the kiss of a man who’s about to walk away. It’s the kiss of someone who’s here to stay. When we finally pull apart, I feel lighter, freer than I have in months.

"I love you," he whispers, his eyes searching mine.

"I love you too," I say, my voice steady, knowing deep down that this is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

From the corner of my eye, I see Nate peek out from the doorway, his sleepy eyes widening when he spots Benedict. "Is Mr. Ben staying with us, Mommy?"

I laugh, my heart swelling as I look between Benedict and Nate. "Yes, sweetheart. He’s staying with us."

Benedict grins, scooping Nate into his arms with ease. "How about that ice cream I promised?"

Nate giggles, his tiny arms wrapping around Benedict’s neck. "Strawberry and chocolate, right?"

I smile, watching as the two of them interact like they’ve always belonged together. And maybe they have. This feels right. Like we’re finally home, all of us.

As we walk back into the house together, hand in hand, I realize something. The mission might be over, but this—the three of us—this is just the beginning of something beautiful. Our happily ever after.