Page 21

When she opened her eyes again, her gaze caught on something in the corner. His pack leaned against the wall, partially hidden by the shadows. Relief washed through her so powerfully that her knees nearly buckled. He hadn’t left after all.

Climbing quickly to her feet she rushed to the door and pushed it open. The early morning air chilled her bare feet as she stepped onto the porch, quickly scanning her property.

He stood near the fence he’d reported, his massive body silhouetted against the pale dawn sky, his shoulders hunched slightly as if under an invisible weight. He hadn’t heard her open the door, lost in whatever thoughts consumed him.

She watched him for a moment, studying the way the rising sun highlighted the contours of his face, the scars that hadn’t been there when she’d known him before. What battles had he fought? What pain had carved those marks into his skin?

When she took a step forward, a porch board creaked beneath her weight and he turned instantly, his posture shifting from contemplative to alert in a heartbeat. As soon as he saw her, something in his eyes softened, though the wariness didn’t completely fade.

“I thought you’d left,” she said, hating the vulnerability that crept into her voice.

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

The simple statement settled something inside her. Of course he wouldn’t—not this Egon, who repaired her fences and guardedher home while she slept. This wasn’t the impulsive male she’d known in the capital. The years had changed them both.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders against the morning chill.

His gaze drifted back to the forest. “Thinking.”

She went to join him, the dew-soaked grass chilling her bare feet. “About what?”

“About the past, I suppose.”

“You never answered my question,” she said quietly, staring out at the same tree line that held his attention. “Why did you leave me all those years ago?”

The question had burned inside her since the moment she recognized him in her garden. Every shared meal, every casual conversation had only intensified her need to know. She’d built a life from the ashes he’d left behind, but the wound of his disappearance had never fully healed.

His jaw tightened, but his eyes remained fixed on the horizon, as if the answer lay somewhere in the distance.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he said finally, his voice low and rough, but she shook her head emphatically.

“Everyone has a choice, Egon.”

She turned to face him fully, no longer content to share his view of the forest. The morning light revealed new scars she hadn’t noticed before—a thin line across his neck, another near his temple.

“I searched for you,” she continued, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “I thought something terrible hadhappened. Then I was told you’d become a fighter, and I realized you’d simply… left me.”

He finally looked at her, his expression pained. “It wasn’t simple.”

“Then explain it to me,” she demanded, crossing her arms. “I deserve that much, don’t I? After all this time?”

The wind rustled through the nearby trees, filling the silence between them as she watched emotions war across his face—reluctance, regret, and something deeper she couldn’t name.

“Yes,” he finally conceded. “You deserve the truth.”

Despite his agreement, he seemed to be struggling to find the words. The morning light caught in his amber eyes, revealing depths of pain she hadn’t seen before. Whatever he was about to tell her, it cost him something to speak it aloud.

“I made a deal,” he finally said, his voice so low she had to lean closer to hear him. “A deal I thought would protect you.”

“Protect me?” Her breath caught. “From what?”

His gaze dropped to the ground between them. “From the life we were living. From me.”

The words hung in the air between them, and she shook her head, not understanding.

“I was broken, Lyric.” His big hands clenched at his sides. “Broken and angry. You were growing up and you deserved better than what I could offer you then.”

A strange ache bloomed in her chest. All these years, she’d imagined countless scenarios—that he’d grown bored of the city, that he’d found someone else, that she simply hadn’t matteredenough for him to say goodbye. Never once had she considered that he’d left because he thought it was best for her.