"I love you," I whisper. "I didn't want to. Tried not to. But I do."
He kisses my forehead. Just that—nothing more. Respecting my boundaries even now.
"Come on," he says softly. "Let's get you back to bed."
He keeps his arm around me as we walk back to the bedroom. And I let him. Lean into him even.
It's not everything. It's not magically fixed. I'm still broken and scared and drowning.
But for the first time in five days, I feel like maybe I won't drown alone.
Maybe that's enough. For now.
CHAPTER 38
Marco
Eight dayssince I brought Elena home, and this morning feels different.
She's sitting across from me at the kitchen island, picking at her omelet. Still not eating much, but she's trying. That counts for something.
What counts for more is the way her hand rests on the counter between us—palm up, open. An invitation.
I slide my hand into hers slowly. Give her time to change her mind. She doesn't. Just laces our fingers together and goes back to pushing eggs around her plate with her fork.
Her thumb moves across my knuckles. Back and forth. A small gesture that means everything.
Five days ago, she couldn't let me touch her at all. Three days ago, she let me hold her hand for the first time since the living room. Yesterday, she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder while we watched a movie.
Baby steps. But they're steps forward.
"You need to eat more than that," I tell her.
"I'm not that hungry."
"You're never hungry."
She glances up at me. There's a hint of fire in her eyes—the first real spark I've seen in over a week. "Are you going to force-feed me like a baby bird?"
"If I have to."
The corner of her mouth twitches. Not quite a smile, but close enough to make my chest tight.
This is what progress looks like. Tiny moments of the Elena I knew before breaking through the trauma. They don't last long—she'll retreat back into herself within the hour—but they're there. Proof that she's still in there fighting.
My phone rings. Vito's name flashes on the screen.
Elena's hand tenses in mine but she doesn't pull away. "You should get that."
"It can wait."
"Marco." She squeezes my fingers. "Answer it. I'm fine."
I search her face for signs she's lying. She looks steady. Present.
"I'll be quick." I bring her hand to my lips before releasing it and answering the call. "Yeah."
"I need you upstairs. Now." Vito's voice is tense. Urgent.
