Page 143 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

It wasn’t easy.

He was furious that I ever believed he blamed me for my mother’s death. As it turns out, he’d only hardened himself because he was terrified of failing as a single parent.

We all have our demons, I suppose.

I spent years blaming myself for her, and for him. For my twin. After she died, he was left without anyone to guide him, and somehow I decided that was my fault too.

In my head, I’d taken his mother from him. I thought he became what he did because of me. So I spent years trying to protect him, to justify every damn thing he did.

But we untangled it all.

And now, for the first time in years, I feel… ready.

Ready for what’s next.

Ready for my woman, and for the life that’s waiting for us.

I look at Ophelia.

She avoids my eyes, and I don’t push her. I promised to give her space, and turning up here today, sliding a ring onto her finger, probably isn’t her idea of that. But I’m trying. So, for now, I let her have it.

Or the idea of having it.

The courses pass quickly and uneventfully. Conversation drifts between business, holidays, the usual polite nonsense.

I can feel Ophelia watching me when she thinks I don’t notice, and it’s enough to almost pull a smile from me.

When the evening finally winds down, I catch myself wishing I could simply take her with me, walk her out of this gilded cage and into somewhere I can breathe again.

I want her beside me when I sleep, when I wake. Every night and every morning.

But not yet.

She needs time. And I need to earn it.

Kidnapping her probably wouldn’t count as remorse in her eyes, so I settle for patience, a virtue I’ve never possessed.

My father shakes hands with Luigi, exchanging false pleasantries that make my jaw tighten. When my turn comes, I skip the man entirely. I owe him nothing.

Lucinda steps forward. I start to offer my hand, but she ignores it and pulls me straight into a hug.

For a second, I go still, then I let her. She’s warm, and her arms tremble a little. Something tightens in my chest, something I don’t have a name for. She gives me one last squeeze before stepping back, her eyes shining.

When I glance around, Ophelia’s watching me.

I take a slow step towards her, then another, until there’s barely a breath between us. We don’t look away from each other.

I reach up and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers grazing her soft skin. The noise around us fades, and it’s just her and me, caught in the same quiet pull.

“I’ll see you soon, ma lune,” I whisper, low enough for only her to hear.

I press a kiss to her cheek, but it still feels like fire under my lips.

She gives a small nod.

I catch sight of the ring on her finger, gleaming under the chandelier.

My ring.