= Chris POV =

I stood up quickly and caught her arm as she wobbled, nearly stumbling back into the house. Tipsy, she could barely hold herself upright, and the sudden vulnerability in her posture hit me like a punch to the chest. The need to protect her and keep her safe rose swiftly, and I gripped her arm a little tighter.

"Where do you need to go? I'll help you," I said, steadying her by wrapping an arm around her waist. Her body leaned into mine, warm and unsteady, and I tried to ignore the way her hair brushed against my cheek as she swayed slightly.

"My room," Sarah murmured, her voice soft and slurred. "All my stuff is already packed. I was going to book a hotel after you all left."

I tightened my grip on her waist and guided her carefully down the hall. The apartment felt eerily empty now that the party was over, and each creak of the floorboards sounded unnaturally loud in the silence.

When we reached her room, I froze. In the center of the bare space sat a lone suitcase, zipped up and ready to go.

"What about all the bed sheets and—" I started, but Sarah cut me off with a weary smile.

"The house came with all that stuff," she said softly. "I actually... don’t own much. It’s all in that suitcase... and a laptop bag out on the dining table. Oh! And my stack of illegal documents." She grinned suddenly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

I stared at the suitcase, my chest tightening. How had I not seen this? How had I let her go through this alone, packing up her life into one bag, preparing to vanish without telling anyone? The thought clawed at me, leaving a hollow ache in my stomach.

I bent down and took the handle of the suitcase in my left hand, then reached out my right to her. She hesitated, looking dazed, like letting go of the luggage had left her untethered.

"Sarah," I said quietly, my voice trembling despite my best effort to keep it steady. "I promise you, no matter what this ridiculous contract means to you, my contract—my real contract—is this: you can stay with me, for free, for as long as you need to get back on your feet again. Even if that means forever."

Sarah blinked up at me, her eyes glassy and tired. Slowly, she reached out and placed her hand in mine, her fingers curling around it softly. She felt small in that moment—too small, too fragile—and something protective stirred deep in my chest.

"You mean it? Forever?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She sounded like a child asking for a bedtime story.

"Forever," I said firmly, pulling her closer, wrapping my arms around her as her head rested against my shoulder. She melted into me, sighing softly, and for the first time that night, I felt like maybe—just maybe—we were both exactly where we needed to be.