I nod, the tightness in my chest finally beginning to ease.
“Damn, that felt good to say.”
Once George is gone, the gallery air feels easier to breathe again—but something inside me still trembles. Not fear anymore. Just… rawness. The way Elijah stands there—unflinching, unshakable—shatters something quietly leftover inside me. The last pieces of doubt.
Still, I can’t quite speak as we step out onto the quieter street outside the exhibit. Elijah holds my hand like he always does: possessive but gentle, thumb sweeping slow circles against my knuckles. He doesn’t say anything until we’re around the corner, away from watching eyes.
Then, he stops and turns toward me, cupping my face with both hands.
“Hey.” His voice is low and careful. “Talk to me. What are you feeling right now?”
I blink up at him, eyes still burning a little. “Like I might fall apart if you let go of me.”
“I’m not going to let go. Ever.”
Tears well again—not from sadness, but from something warmer, something that feels like being rewritten in real time.
“You don’t just defend me,” I whisper. “You see me. All of me. You made him feel small… without even raising your voice.”
Elijah brushes his thumb beneath my eye, catching a tear.
“Because heissmall, Ava. And you … you’re fucking amazing. If he couldn’t see that, it’s only because he was too busy looking at his own reflection.”
I let out a soft, shaky laugh through the emotion. “And you? What are you looking at?”
He smiles. “Everything I never knew I needed. And everything I’m going to spend the rest of my life protecting.”
The words settle over me like a warm blanket. I don’t need to question them. I feel their truth in my bones.
After a moment, Elijah leans in and kisses my forehead.
Then my nose. Then the corner of my mouth, until I’m smiling again.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says gently. “Too many ghosts and overpriced wine in there.”
I nod. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere with coffee. And something chocolatey. You deserve both.”
I raise a brow. “Are you trying to bribe me into smiling?”
“Is it working?”
I laugh then—finally—and he grins like that’s the only answer he needs.
Chapter twenty-three
Ava
Idon’tplanwhatI’m going to say. I don’t rehearse it on the way over. I don’t need to.
The second my mother opens the door, all the old tightness coils in my chest, but I don’t let it rule me this time.
She smiles, like nothing happened. “Ava, I wasn’t expecting you.”
I step inside. “I’m sure you weren’t.”
Her expression flickers. “Is something wrong?”
