His voice is no longer the gentle guide from moments ago.
It’s a lion’s snarl—low, lethal, terrifying.
“If you come near her again while she can’t see you, I swear I’ll blindfoldyou. And it won’t be with silk.”
“I was just trying to help,” Joe laughs weakly. I hear the fear in it. “She’s always been unsteady in heels.”
“The only thing unsteady here is your facial structure if you don’t walk away in the next three seconds. Leave.”
Then—
Fabric rustling. A stumble. Footsteps retreating fast.
I reach for the blindfold, ready to stop Cohen from doing anything reckless—
But he pulls me back into him, breathing hard.
“You okay?” he murmurs, the gentleness returning instantly—reserved for me alone.
I nod, shaky.
“I’m here.” His palms slide up and down my arms, calming me. “Forget him. Just listen to me. My voice. No one else exists.”
He takes my hands and guides them back toward the tree.
“It’s just you and me, Angel. In the dark. Trust me.”
And I do.
For the first time in my life, I switch off my brain and turn on instinct.
I let go.
I stop worrying where I’m stepping, because he’s watching for me.
I stop worrying about Joe, because Cohen is the wall between me and the entire world.
I decorate blindly, guided by touch, breath, and voice.
“A little to the right… yes. Perfect.”
“Now bend—touch my shoulder—good.”
It feels like a dance.
“TIME!”
Aunt Tina’s whistle slices the air. I flinch.
Cohen is instantly at my back. His fingers work at the knot behind my head, loosening it with careful precision.
The silk slips away.
I blink against the bright lights, bracing myself for a catastrophe.
I expect a lopsided mess—ornaments clumped together, garlands hanging like limp snakes.
I turn.
