Page 109 of Our Darkest Summer

“I love you too, you fool,” she whispered into my palm.

The world turned quiet. The words burned, searing my throat, carving into my bones. I let the pain split me open.She loved me.

Her fingers swept over my face—gentle, steady—and then she curled in closer, until our foreheads touched, until her warmth seeped into my skin.

“I love you,” she whispered again. “Your strength, your passion, your humor.” Her palm pressed over my chest, right where my heart was trying to break free. “I love your smile, and I’m lucky to be one of the few who have seen it.”

A breath shuddered out of me, my fingers tightening around her waist like she might disappear.

“I almost died tonight,” she nodded, saying what I couldn’t. “But you saved my life, Thomas. You were there for me, over and over again.”

I lifted my gaze to her, and in the silver light spilling into the room, she looked like something ethereal. Like a goddess carved from moonlight and fire.

“I don’t deserve you,” I finally admitted, the weight of it dragging through my chest.

Her fingers brushed my face again, following the line of my jaw. “You don’t get to decide that,” she murmured, her lips soft against mine. “I chose you, and I need you to choose me.”

Her body molded against mine like she had been made to fit there. Like she had really been made for me. I buried my face in her hair, breathing her in, the scent of vanilla, strawberry, and something softer. Something that felt like home.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“You won’t.”

She said it like it was a certainty, like she had already made up her mind and nothing in this world could change it. I curled my arms around her, holding her tighter, my chest shredding at the thought of her slipping away.

And for the first time in my life, I decided to choose myself over others. To chooseus,without any guilt. Because for once, I wasn’t afraid to hold on to something good.

I wasn’t afraid to be hers.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Anonymous

July 4. 11:57 p.m.

The airin the room was thick, heavy, the only sound the slow, rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. The seconds stretched, long, almost unbearable, but he didn’t rush.

“Yes. She killed her.”

The words fell into the silence like a stone into water, sending ripples through the room.

“She hit her in the head so hard, blood pooled around her within moments.” His eyes almost smiled, his fingers drumming lazily against the table. “That woman walked into our shop like she had the right. Like she knew us. She looked my mother in the eye and dared to say she was dangerous.” A quiet scoff. “Dangerous to us. To her own children.”

A slow, measured breath.

“She said she needed help.”

A pause.

“But you know what she really wanted? To tear our family apart.”

Momentarily silence settled over the room.

“She wanted to tear our family apart, and I’m the one getting questioned?” His fingers flexed, tightening into a fist before relaxing again. “We were fine. We were always fine.”

A beat passed before the next words came, quiet but unwavering, “So my mom did what she had to do.”

There was no hesitation. No doubt.