Parker watched her like a man who'd already seen the script play out three steps ahead. Calm. Unmoving. But his eyes—those eyes—were calculating every pause, every shift in her breath, the tremble in her voice, the way she blinked one too many times to hide whatever war her mind was losing.
He leaned on the railing, hands in his pockets like he wasn't phased. Like he already knew the first thing that was going to leave her lips the moment that call dropped.
The phone beeped. Call ended.
She lowered it slowly, not even turning around fully when she spoke.
"They need me home. In the next three days."
Bingo.
He didn't flinch. Didn't twitch. Just smiled like it was the most casual news in the world. "Good. We've got time then," he said, as if they hadn't just been hit with the start of something tectonic. He didn't think she needed something to remind her she was leaving him so he opted for something else.
