He arches a brow.“For what?”
“Falling apart.Again.On your bed.In your house.In your life.”
He snorts, incredulous.“Olivia, if you don’t start giving yourself as much grace as you give literal strangers who lose their library cards, I’m going to lose my mind.”
A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth.“Those people are monsters.”
“Exactly,” he deadpans.“And you forgive them.”
Silence falls again, softer now.“So,” I say, voice steadier, “what now?”
“Now,” he says, shifting into that focused mode that does terrible things to me, “we document.We tell the police he called and admitted to the fire.We loop in the investigators.We get the restraining order reinstated if you’re up for it.And we do not pretend this didn’t happen.”
Ice prickles under my skin at the idea of courts and paperwork and explaining.He sees it immediately and cups my jaw, tilting my face back to him.
“You don’t do any of that alone,” he says.“I can go with you.Or Aunt Dee.Or both.Hell, I’ll bring the entire firehouse if you want dramatic moral support.”
A laugh breaks out of me, fragile but real.“Pretty sure that’s overkill.”
“I like overkill,” he says.“It sends a damn good message.”
There’s a knock on the door and we both stiffen.Not like that.No panic.Just ...awareness.
Aunt Dee’s voice filters through, laced with worry she barely bothers to hide.“Everything all right in there?”
Darren glances at me, giving me the choice.
“Yeah,” I call, voice rough but functional.“We’re okay.”
The floorboard outside creaks in that specific way Aunt Dee uses when she lingers to eavesdrop.Then her footsteps retreat, probably to make tea weapons-grade strong.
Darren presses his forehead to mine again for a moment, just breathing me in like he needs it as much as I do.“I meant what I said,” he murmurs.
“About what?”
“All of it,” he says, and then his mouth brushes mine.
It’s nothing like the kiss earlier.That one was discovery.This one is claiming, of himself, of his own feelings, of the space he’s choosing to stand in with me.It’s still gentle, yes, but there’s steel under it.A vow without words.
I kiss him back because I don’t know how not to.When we part, he smiles that slow, devastating smile that makes me feel seen instead of examined.
“He wants what’s his,” Darren says softly, echoing my ex’s words with disdain.“Too bad you were never his to begin with.”
The fear is still there.There isn’t some magical cure that will just make it melt away.He didn’t banish my past with one phone call and a kiss.But it’s ...smaller.More manageable.
Held in place by calloused hands and a voice that calls me back to myself every time I drift.
“I want to go to the police,” I hear myself say, surprising us both.
His eyes light with quiet pride.“Okay.”
“I want...”My throat tightens and I push past it.“I want this on record.I’m tired of being quiet.I’m tired of surviving and calling it living.”
He nods, like I’ve just said something holy.“I’ll grab my keys,” he says.“You grab your courage.”
I laugh, a watery sound once more.“Where did I put that again?”
He taps my chest gently, right over my heart.“Right there.”
