“I was the one who disappeared when things got too intense. If there was family drama or conflict, I’d find somewhere else to be until it blew over.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“It was. But it also felt safer than getting caught in the middle of whatever storm was brewing. I spent most of my twenties traveling, convincing myself I was seeing the world when really I was just avoiding dealing with family obligations.”
“What changed?”
“My brothers started falling in love. Aleksei with Bianca, then Grigor with Seraphina, then Dmitri with Cecily. Watching them find happiness made me realize what I was missing by staying away.”
“You wanted what they had.”
“I wanted to be part of something permanent instead of always passing through.” Her hands move lower on my back, following the line of tension down my spine. “Cecily and Seraphina came from a family situation that makes yours sound functional by comparison.”
“Really? How did they end up with your brothers?”
“Long story involving their father selling one into marriage and the other refusing to be used in the same way. The point is, they understand what it means to choose your family instead of just accepting the one you’re born into.”
“Is that what you did? Choose your family?”
“Eventually. It took me longer than it should have, but I finally realized that running away from problems doesn’t solve them. It just means you face them alone instead of with people who love you. You can do that too, you know. You have me now. You have my family. You don’t have to face things alone anymore.”
The silence that follows stretches long enough that I wonder if I’ve said too much too soon. When she finally speaks, her voice is thick with emotion.
“That’s a big promise to make to someone you’ve known for a few weeks.”
“It’s not a promise. It’s a fact.”
She leans forward until her forehead rests against the back of my neck, and her breath tickles my skin. “Maksim…”
“I know it’s complicated. I know I’m asking you to trust someone from the same world that hurt you. But I’m not Troy, and I’m not your parents. I see your strength, and I want to add to it, not take from it.”
“You scare me,” she whispers against my neck.
“Why?”
“Because you make me want things I’ve never let myself want before. Stability. Partnership. Someone who actually gives a damn whether I come home at night.”
I turn around on the cushion to face her, and the tears threatening in her green eyes make me want to promise her the world.
“You can have all of those things,” I tell her. “With me, if you’ll let yourself try.”
“What if I’m not good at it? What if I’m too damaged or too independent or too—”
“What if you’re perfect exactly as you are?”
She studies my face like she’s looking for lies or false promises. Whatever she sees must satisfy her, because she nods.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
The relief that floods through me is so complete that I have to close my eyes for a moment to believe it. When I open them again, she’s watching me with something that looks suspiciously like wonder.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“For what?”
