Give in to Me by K. M. Scott

me where we’re going or do I just get to be in the dark about my immediate future?”
    “Sure. We’ll be flying coach back to the States so you get to experience the pain and suffering I’ve had to endure all these times back and forth to visit you here and from there we’ll be getting you settled into your new place where you’ll have to stay for a while. I’ve made sure it’s close enough for you to keep an eye on the house but far enough away to make sure you’re not seen.”
    I stopped stuffing clothes into the bag and turned to face him standing next to me. “So I get to spy on my own house and Nina is what you’re saying.”
    “Spy is such an ugly word in this case. I just think it would help to have another pair of eyes watching when we can. I don’t plan to live out in the middle of nowhere, no offense, so you can.”
    I thought about all the time I’d spent out at the country house and smiled at Daryl’s description of it. After all this time away, it was the only place in the world I thought of as home. Far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the house was where Nina and I had fallen in love. How many hours had we spent just lying in each other’s arms at that house, every second of our time together the most wonderful moments of my life? There was nowhere else I wanted to be, but if all I could have was somewhere close to Nina, then I’d take it and do whatever I had to in order to get back to my life with her.
    “Ready to get your life back?”
    “I am, and Karl better hope to God he doesn’t get in my way. I have too much to fight for to let him get what he wants.”
    I took one last look around the rooms where I’d spent months hiding out from the rest of the world. I’d lost part of myself in this place, the one part that I couldn’t live without. Even though Nina had never given up on me all the while I’d been here, I’d given up. Now it was time to take the chance again to have the life I knew I wanted more than anything else.

Chapter Six

    Nina

    Jordan’s leaving sent me into an emotional tailspin, and for days I didn’t get out of bed. Nothing made me feel better, even texting Tristan. How could it? I felt like I was constantly sending out messages in bottles and although I knew he received them, since he never answered it was a one-sided conversation, at best. As the days dragged by, my unhappiness morphed into anger at everything and everyone.
    I wanted answers. I wanted Tristan to finally send a message back, even if it just said that he received my texts. I wanted him to hear what my words were saying and come back, even if it wasn’t safe for him or me. I didn’t care for excuses. I wanted him back.
    Our bed became the only place I wanted to be because it reminded me of him. No matter how many times the sheets had been washed, they still held his scent. Not of his cologne but him . Closing my eyes, I imagined him next to me, silent as a statue as I chattered on about something. Like he always did, he smiled when I looked up to see if he was paying attention, muttering, “I’m listening” when I gave him that questioning look because he’d said nothing for so long.
    God, I missed him.
    My phone still held months of messages to him, so I spent my time scrolling through them reading my feelings for him as the time passed. Some were sad, while others made me smile. Each one marked a moment in time without him.
    By the third day, it was all I could do to drag my body to the shower and wash my miserable self. While I didn’t feel like I had when my father died and when Cal cheated on me, in some ways I felt worse. Those had both been horrible times, but they’d been endings I had to handle. Learning to accept the loss of someone was like having your heart torn out every day, but this was different. Tristan wasn’t gone forever. He was just gone.
    There was nothing I was allowed to mourn about this situation. Instead, I was supposed to stay in this house haunted