Page 119

Raw and real and fucking magnificent.
I want to pull her into my arms.
Tell her I’ll fix this.
But I don’t move.
Because this moment isn’t about what I want.
It’s about what she needs to say.
And I won’t take that from her.
“Say what you need to say, Princess. I won’t stop you.”
A broken sound chokes out of her, and the way her eyes hold mine says it all. This isn’t what she wants, it what she needs.
I close the distance between us in two strides and pull her into my arms. She comes without hesitation, her arms wrapping tightly around me.
And fuck me, I’ve never felt so raw.
So fucking desperate to hold her together while she breaks.
So goddamn terrified this is the last time I’ll get to hold her.
I smooth my hand down her hair while she sobs against my chest. I give her all the time she needs. Hell, I’d stand here forever with her like this if she needed me to.
When she finally lets me go, I meet her gaze and wait.
She swallows hard. “I love you, Gage, but I need to heal myself before I can love you the way you deserve.”
Her words knock the breath from my lungs.
“You love like no person I have ever known,” she says as tears stain her beautiful face. “You love like you’ve already decided I’m worth every storm. You respect. You handle with care. You pay attention. Youseeme. And you never make me feel like I’m too much, even when I don’t know how to hold myself. Love isn’t casual to you. It’s something youshow upfor. Every single day. And I want to meet you in that kind of love. I do. But first I need to become someone who can stay when it gets loud. Because you deserve someone who never makes you question that she’s staying.”
I don’t speak. I can’t.
My chest’s a warzone. My throat’s dust.
But I bring my hand to her face and brush away one of her tears.
My thumb lingers there, memorizing skin I already know in my bones.
Then I nod. Once.
Because this isn’t mine to stop.
And because she just handed me the most honest, gutting, loving truth I’ve ever been given.
“You come back when you’re ready,” I say quietly. “I’ll be standing right here.”
Her breath hitches.
Not sharp. Not dramatic. It’s just caught.
And the look in her eyes says she wasn’t prepared for how gently I’d let her go.
Her eyes go glassy again, and for a second, she presses her lips together like she’s trying to keep every emotion in.