Now I’d give anything to take that moment back.
“She deserves everything I never planned to give,” I said softly.
Adonis was quiet for a long moment. Then he finally said, “Then tell her. Soon. Before it festers.”
Liam nodded. “It’ll suck. But she’s stronger than you think.”
I swallowed, heart aching. “Yeah. I know she is.”
But even strength has limits.
And I didn’t know if I was about to be the final weight that broke her.
---- ??? ----
The tux felt too stiff.
No matter how many times I adjusted the collar or brushed my palms down the lapels, it didn’t feel right. Not because it didn’t fit — it was tailored. Crisp. Expensive.
It just wasn’t what I’d worn the day I first met her.
And somehow, that felt important.
I stared at my reflection, my jaw tense. The gala was in an hour.
Her birthday gala.
A masquerade where she’d be surrounded by people who knew her name, but not her story.
But I did.
I knew the girl who carried weight like it was stitched into her spine. The woman who moved like fire in a storm. The warrior who could take a shot without blinking… and break from a soft touch.
I loved her.
And I had no idea how to show her that in a room full of masks.
A knock at the door broke my spiral.
“Come in,” I muttered.
My dad stepped in, jacket unbuttoned, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You still fighting with that tie?”
I looked down at the half-done knot like it had personally betrayed me. “It’s the tie’s fault.”
He chuckled and walked over, gently brushing my hands away. “Let me.”
I let him. We didn’t do this often — these quiet moments. But when we did, they landed heavy in the best way. Like I was still someone’s son. Not just a soldier. Not just a weapon.
He worked quickly, his fingers folding the silk like muscle memory.
“So,” he said without looking up. “Big night.”
“Yeah.”
“You look like you’re about to go into combat.”
I huffed out a dry laugh. “Feels like it.”
