His hands framed her face. Thumbs brushing away tears that continued to fall despite her obvious attempt at control.
“I love you,” he said again. “Not because you’re convenient. Not because you help with Lillian or manage the household or present well to society. I love you because you’re brave when I’m cowardly. Because you touch my scar without flinching. Because you see past the Dangerous Duke to the terrified man underneath.”
He leaned closer, close enough to feel her breath against his mouth.
“I love you because you make me want to be better than my fears. Because you’ve shown me what family actually means. Because when I’m with you, I feel like I might deserve happiness after all.”
“Edmund.” His name emerged brokenly from her lips. “I can’t—if you hurt me again?—”
“I won’t.” The oath settled in his chest like truth finally claimed. “I swear on James’s memory. On Lillian’s future. On every remaining day of my wretched existence—I will not push you away again. I will not let fear win. I will not hide behind walls when you deserve courage.”
He pressed his forehead to hers.
“Come home, Isadora. Please. Allow me to earn your forgiveness. Let me show you that I can be the husband you deserve.”
She stood there. Trembling. Tears still falling.
Then her hands came up. Gripped his coat with enough force to crumple fabric. Held him as though afraid he might disappear if she let go.
“If you fail me,” she whispered against his throat, “if you push me away again, I will leave. And I won’t come back. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Promise me.” Her voice hardened. “Promise me you’ll fight for this. For us. Even when it’s difficult. Even when fear tells you to retreat.”
“I promise.” Edmund pulled back enough to meet her eyes. “I will fight for you every single day. Will tell society the truth about James. Will defend Lillian publicly. Will tear down every wall I’ve built if that’s what it takes to prove I mean this.”
He cupped her face in his hands. Let her see everything—the love, the fear, the desperate hope that perhaps forgiveness was possible.
“I love you, Isadora Ravensleigh. And I will spend the rest of my life making certain you never doubt it again.”
She searched his face. Looking for lies. For the fear that might make him retreat.
Edmund held steady. Let her see truth finally claimed.
Then—finally, mercifully—she nodded.
“Take me home,” she whispered.
The words struck like absolution. Like forgiveness and hope and every impossible thing Edmund had convinced himself he didn’t deserve.
He kissed her.
Not gently. Not carefully. With the desperate intensity of a man who’d nearly lost everything and understood—finally, completely—how close he’d come to destroying the only thing that mattered.
She kissed him back. Hands tangling in his hair, body pressed against his, pouring weeks of pain and love and stubborn hope into the contact.
When they finally broke apart—both gasping for air, foreheads pressed together—Edmund felt something fundamental shift in his chest.
The walls were gone. Burned away by love finally acknowledged. By courage chosen over fear.
By a woman brave enough to forgive him despite every reason not to.
“I love you,” he said again. Would say it every day for the rest of his life until she believed it completely. “I love you and I’m sorry and I will never push you away again.”
“You’d better not.” But she smiled through tears. Actually smiled. “Because I’m not going through this twice. Next time you get frightened and start building walls, I’ll simply tear them down myself.”
Edmund laughed. The sound rusty but genuine. First real laughter since she’d fled.
