The darkness in him has always frightened me.
But the love he threads through it, the gentleness he reserves only for me, that is what truly unravels me.
He looks down at our son again, and the expression that crosses his face is almost indescribable. Soft. Reverent. Terrified. A man who would raze the world to protect something he can barely believe he deserves.
“Do you want to hold him?” he asks.
My chest caves inward with love and fear all tangled together.
“Yes,” I whisper, breathless. “Please.”
He moves slowly, carefully placing the tiny bundle into my arms. The weight of our son settles against me, warm and fragile and impossibly real.
I break.
Quietly, helplessly.
My tears fall into his blanket, each one warm against the fabric. He makes a tiny squeak of sound, a newborn protest, and my entire heart folds around him like wings.
Protection.
He is here, real, alive.
Mine.
Billy watches us, eyes filled with something so raw it feels like lightning trapped behind his irises.
“You did this,” he whispers. “You carried him. You kept him safe even when you couldn’t keep yourself safe. You saved him.”
“No,” I murmur, looking at the baby’s peaceful face. “We saved him.”
He leans closer, his voice dropping to a hush that curls around my spine.
“No, Penelope. You saved me.”
The words hit me like a physical touch.
There is darkness in him. Deep, ancient, wound-tight. But in this moment, I see the shape of his devotion with painful clarity. He would burn for me. Bleed for me. Break for me.
Kneel for me.
And he did.
I want to tell him that I don’t deserve it. I want to tell him I’m still afraid. I want to tell him I don’t know how to love someone who insists on sacrificing himself.
But before I can speak, he shifts, drawing a slow, unsteady breath.
His expression changes, something heavy settles into his eyes. Something I’ve never seen there before.
“Penelope,” he says quietly. I look up, my eyes coming to meet his, only when they do, they crash, collide, shatter. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He hesitates, the moment stretching taut and cold. “About why I was sent to find you in the group home all those years ago.”
And the world falls away from beneath me once more.
Chapter 42
BILLY
Ithought I knew what fear was.
