My throat tightens again, a sob clawing for release. I picture Sam, his easy smile, the gentleness in his touch, the way he listens when I speak like every word matters. And now, I understand the quiet strength beneath it, the resilience that’s been there all along.
I swallow hard, whispering mostly to myself, “He really is extraordinary.”
Bas smiles faintly. “Oui,ma chérie.He is.”
Tears spill freely down my cheeks; I don’t bother to stop them. I can hardly fathom what Sam’s mother must have endured—how much pain she must have carried inside her fragile heart. My chest aches for her, for her parents, andmost of all, for Sam. To grow up without a mother, and later learnwhyshe left—how unbearable that must have been. And his grandparents… To lose their only child that way, to shoulder that kind of grief while raising her son—it must have been agony.
And then it hits me.
The tattoos.
The Little Prince quote. The snake. It all makes sense now.
He literally wears his history.
Not as a wound, but as a map.
A guide.
A reminder of where he came from, and of everything he’s chosen to rise above.
The quote,“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly,”wasn’t about loss at all. It was about love. His mother’s love.
She saw him not through the lens of what had been done to her, but through her heart. Where others might have seen only pain, she saw her son, the one pure thing born of something broken. She loved him in spite of the darkness, maybe even because of it.
When I turn back to face Bas, emotion tightens my throat. He reaches out, cupping my face in both hands, his rough thumbs brushing away the tears that keep falling. His blue eyes glimmer with the same gentleness I’ve come to know so well.
“Ma chérie,I didn’t tell you this to make you cry.”
Behind me, Alec’s hand rubs slow circles across my back, grounding me. “Are you sure?” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice. “I think he wanted you to know because Sam may never say it himself.”
“True,” Bas admits with a low rumble of a laugh. Then his tone softens, heavy with affection. “But I also told you because I want you to understand what makes Samson so rare. So extraordinary. It takes a special kind of man to come from thatkind of beginning and still choose love. He carries no anger, no bitterness—though if anyone had the right to, it’s him.”
He pauses, his gaze deep and certain. “Take care of him,ma chérie.Be there for him. That’s all he’ll ever need. He may not have said the words yet, but he loves you with all that he is.”
My breath catches, the room tilting just slightly around me. His words land like something both beautiful and terrifying, a truth I feel in every heartbeat.
Bas smiles faintly, a glint of mischief still alive behind the gravity in his eyes. “And you love him too.” It isn’t a question. It’s a knowing.
All I can do is nod. Because he’s right.
I do.
More than I ever meant to.
Bas’s eyes linger on mine a moment longer, as if to make sure I’ve understood—not just his words, but the weight behind them. Then his shoulders sag, the spark dimming with fatigue. Alec notices it too. Without needing to speak, he reaches for Bas’s arm, guiding him gently to his feet.
“Come on, mon amour.” Alec’s voice is threaded with affection. “Time for bed.”
Bas grumbles in protest, though his body betrays him as he leans into Alec’s steadying hand. “I’m not tired.”
I smile through the tightness in my chest. “Of course you’re not, but humor him anyway.”
He chuckles, a sound rasped thin by exhaustion. “Bossy woman.” His eyes shimmer as he lets Alec steer him down the hall. At the doorway, he glances back, his expression tender. “Remember what I said,ma chérie.”
Then he’s gone.
The house settles into silence, the kind that quietly echoes of love and loss. I stand for a moment, staring after them, my heart heavy and full all at once.
