Before I could say a word, he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.
Warmth. Scent. Familiar arms.
I melted into it. Just for a moment.
Let myself breathe in a body that didn’t carry danger. That didn’t make my pulse spike with fear or something worse. I let myself lean in, bury my face in his shoulder?—
Until I remembered.
Where I was.
Who I was.
Whose I was.
I tensed.
He felt it immediately.
His arms didn’t drop. They tightened.
“Seph,” he murmured, his voice low, threading through my chest like a balm. “What the fuck kind of situation is this?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Everything I wanted to say tangled in my throat like thorns. The truth tasted bitter—too big, too ugly, too real.
But Cliff didn’t move.
He just waited.
So I let it fall.
“It’s Hades,” I whispered. “I didn’t want this. Any of this.” My voice cracked, splintering like glass. “But it doesn’t matter what I want anymore.”
He pulled back, eyes scanning me like he could piece everything together from the way I held my shoulders, the way I flinched at my own truth.
The dress was still clinging to my skin, and suddenly it felt like evidence. Like something he could smell on me. See in the way I couldn’t meet his eyes for more than a second.
“I’m stuck,” I said. “It’s like he’s wrapped himself around everything. I can’t move. I can’t think. I just—” My breath hitched. “I don’t know how to breathe in here.”
Cliff’s jaw tightened, but his eyes stayed soft.
He reached for my hand.
Took it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Held on like he meant it.
“I’ll help you get out,” he said, voice steady. “Whatever it takes.”
The words hit something deep. Something fragile.
Hope stirred—soft and stupid.
Because a part of me wanted to believe that. Desperately.
