Page 135 of Stolen to Be Mine


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Like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I’m terrified,” I admitted. My voice cracked. “Not just of losing you. Of being wrong, of...”

Xavier squeezed my hand. Hard. Locked eyes with me across the table.

“Not... wrong.” Each word came deliberately. Carefully. “Need you. Choose you.”

The certainty in those broken words made my lungs ache.

“But what if Maeve...”

“Don’t know... who she is.” Xavier’s jaw clenched with frustration. Forcing the words past damaged vocal cords. “But know... this.” He gestured between us with his free hand. “Know... you.”

Tears burned. “You’re going into that building and you might not come back.”

He tightened his grip. “Come back. Promise.”

A sharp laugh escaped me. Bitter. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Xavier leaned forward. Pulled my hand to his sternum. Pressed my palm flat against the rapid beat underneath.

The rhythm thundered under my fingers. Fast. Strong. Alive.

His other hand came up. Cupped my face with devastating gentleness.

“Then... make me... keep it.”

The words were rough, but clearer.

I stared at him. At the fierce determination in his green gaze. At the man who’d been built to kill but chose gentleness when hetouched me. At someone who trusted me when I couldn’t trust myself.

“You’re going to fight. You’re going to get those codes and come back.”

“Yes.”

“And we’ll figure out the rest. Maeve. Your past. Whatever comes back when your memories return.” My voice steadied. “We’ll handle it together.”

Something shifted in Xavier’s expression. Relief and maybe gratitude.

He stood. Came around the table.

I stood too.

Xavier pulled me into his embrace. Held me tight enough I could barely breathe.

I didn’t care.

My face pressed against his sternum. The steady beat against my ear. His chin resting on top of my head.

Safe. Grounded. Real.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against his shirt. “For making you think I didn’t want this. Didn’t want you.”

He tightened his grip. I felt him shake his head.

“Understand,” he rasped. “You were... scared. Emma. Maeve. Too much.”

God, he got it. Got me.