“That’s not necessary.”There was something knowing in her look, soft but measured.“You two probably have a lot to talk about.And after so many years without privacy, I’d love a little peace.”
“Are you sure you feel all right?”I asked, not used to seeing my mother like this.
“I’ve never felt better.”She placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, then turned and walked away.
“She seems like a completely different person,” I murmured as I watched her figure disappear into the amber light.
Henry’s voice came from behind me, quiet but firm.“That’s because she is.”
I faced him.“How?”
He parted his lips, as if searching for the words.“I’ll explain over dinner.”
I raised a brow.“Is this your way of bribing me?”
His mouth lifted in the corners.“Is it working?”
My heart betrayed me with a stutter.
That smile… It reminded me of all the ways he’d once made me feel seen, safe.The way he’d looked at me when he told me none of what Victor did to me was my fault.When he called me a warrior.When he traced my scars like they were something beautiful.
“Please, Ariana.Have dinner with me.”
I wanted to say no.Wanted to hate him.Wanted to keep my distance.But when I saw the pleading look in his eyes, I couldn’t seem to form the word.
“Okay,” I said quietly.“Dinner.”
Relief flickered across his face, as if he’d just won the lottery.He placed a hand on the small of my back, steering me toward the main house.
The kitchen was massive.High ceilings, stainless steel everything, marble counters that gleamed under the recessed lights.He pulled a barstool from the island for me.
“Here.Sit.How’s your knee?”
“A little sore,” I admitted, wincing as I eased onto the stool.“Krystal gave me a painkiller earlier so that’s helped a bit.”
“And your ribs?”
“They just feel like I did a really intense workout.The worst pain is probably from the stitches.”I touched the bandage over my right brow.
“At least you had a professional stitch you up.”He chuckled, opening a bottle of water and setting it in front of me as he passed me a knowing gleam.
“Sorry about that.”I stole a glance at the angry red line covering his brow.“First time for me.How’s your head?And ankle?”
“I’m fine.”He shrugged.“Krystal says I’ll have a nice scar to remember you by.”
“God.I’m so sorry.”
I hadn’t even thought about how I might permanently scar or disfigure him when I was patching him up.My sole priority was to stop the bleeding before he lost consciousness.
“It’s okay.I’ve had worse.”
I immediately thought of the scars I’d seen across his back — faded pink lines crisscrossing his skin.
“Scars remind us of the battles we fought and won,” he said softly, as if able to read my thoughts.“They stop hurting once you stop pretending they never happened.”
The words hit somewhere deep inside me.Victor had made me live in denial of every scar, physical and otherwise.Pretend I was whole when I was barely standing.Barely surviving.
But Henry had seen all of them.Instead of looking away, he’d touched each mark like it was proof of my strength.
