Page 296 of His To Erase

His mouth curves into the smile that ruins lives. “The one you wouldn’t shut up about months ago.”

My brain short-circuits. “The one that was already sold when I got there? Wait, how did you know about that?”

“Because I was the one who bought it.”

My mouth opens. Nothing comes out because my brain's not functioning. I’m just standing there like a fucking idiot while my heart shatters.

“You bought it?” I whisper. “You bought me a fucking building?”

He leans in, kissing the side of my mouth. “Dreams are for the dead, pretty girl. You’ve got plans.”

And now I’m crying again. How the hell are you supposed to breathe when the same man who wrecked you puts you back together—then builds you a library just to hand you the goddamn world?

You cry. You melt. And then you ride him into next week, thanking him—loudly. Bent over the desk. Up against the shelves. Maybe even on that stupid table by the front window, just to be dramatic.

He kisses me like he’s starving—like it’s been weeks, not hours. And when I kiss him back, it’s not because I’m broken. Or lost. Or looking to be saved.

It’s because I finally stopped running.

For the first time in my life… I already have everything I need.

Him.