And there it was. The truth, stark and sudden, like a gust of wind, or an avalanche, that stole the breath from his lungs.
He wanted a place in her world. Not as a footnote, not as a passing fancy whispered about behind fans and closed doors, but as something solid. Present. Lasting.
That terrified him.
Because Sebastian had never believed himself capable of that kind of role. His life had always been defined by function, by duty and the expectation that he would be the one to carry burdens without complaint. The capable one. He had never resented it. Much. It had been easier, in many ways, to escape behind duty. To avoid being noticed all that much.
Until Maddie saw him.
Not just the polished man or the titled man. She saw the parts of him he kept tucked beneath his spine, the yearning, the loneliness, the hunger to be… wanted. Not needed. Wanted.
That kind of exposure should have made him retreat.
But instead, here he was, sitting beside a woman who had very nearly died in his arms, who had laughed with him not an hour later, who spoke of dreams like they were visible things, and he wanted to reach out and wrap himself in every single one of hers.
He wanted to be the one she leaned on. The one she let into her greenhouse. The one she let make the tea while she concocted strange potions that filled the house with the scent of vinegar and fish and whatever else made her nose crinkle.
He wanted a life with her.
And that want ran so deep it scared him.
What if this was just a dream? What if she woke tomorrow and he had no place in her life? But she had leanedon him. She had rested on him. And that, more than anything, felt like truth.
He glanced over at her again. And in that moment, Sebastian realized…
He didn’t want to go back to the life he’d had before Maddie.
And if she’d let him, he’d never leave her side again.
He turned slightly, watching her with the kind of scrutiny that only came when a man knew he stood on the edge of something that could change everything. She was hugging her knees still, her profile soft, lost in thought.
He found himself speaking before he had time to think better of it. “You’re not cold anywhere anymore? All warm?”
Her eyes flicked to his, surprise blooming across her features, chased quickly by a smile. “Mostly,” she said. “My toes still have questions.”
Sebastian exhaled a low laugh. “Stubborn things, toes. Not easily convinced.”
“I think they’re holding out for better company,” she said, wiggling them toward the fire. “Or perhaps an apology.”
He arched a brow. “An apology?”
“For subjecting them to an avalanche and a snow-laden trek, naturally.”
“Then allow me to speak directly to the aggrieved parties.” He shifted closer, gaze fixed pointedly on her feet. “To Maddie’s toes: I deeply regret the aforementioned trauma and promise to make amends in the form of warmth, comfort, and if necessary… hot cider.”
She laughed again, a soft sound that made a home in his chest.
“Is this how you handle all crises?” she asked, tilting her head. “Charm and negotiation?”
“You are so silly.”
“Happy to oblige.”
“You know,” she said, voice quieter now, “I meant what I said earlier.”
“About the sleigh?” he teased.
“About not changing this moment,” she replied, her gaze steady. “I’ve spent so long avoiding anything that might ruffle feathers or invite whispers. I’ve been the good daughter, the proper lady, the quiet observer. And now, here, I feel like I can just be.”
