He nods once, slowly, heavy with conflict.
His hand drags over his face, fingers pressing into his brow like he’s holding his skull together.
“You don’t understand,” he murmurs. “The things my father did—the things he hid…”“I thought I’d already survived the worst of him. I thought I knew the boundaries of the damage he caused.”
He lifts his eyes to mine.“And you’re telling me I didn’t.”
I don’t answer.There’s no right answer.
If I say yes, I confirm something that could break him.If I say no, I lie to protect a man who strangled someone for me without hesitation.
So I stay quiet.
For a long, charged moment, he just looks at me.Not like I’m a threat.Not like I’m a liar.But like I’m the knife that could cut him open… or free him.
He’s wavering.I feel it in the room.In his breath.In the way violence and faith battle behind his eyes.
The man he wants to be is slipping.And the man I’m dragging out of him—with every truth, every lie, every breath—is winning.
And God help me…I don’t know how to stop.
Santino’s Reaction Cuts Deep
Santino sits beside me slowly—like I’m something breakable, something wounded, something he’s terrified of touchingwrong. The mattress dips beneath his weight, barely a shift, yet it feels like the entire room tilts with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asks.
Softly.Too softly.
The gentleness cracks something sharp in me.
“Would you have believed me?” I snap.The words fly out like a blade thrown on instinct.
He doesn’t flinch.
“Yes.”It punches the air out of my lungs.
I look away, swallowing hard against something raw and rising. He shouldn’t believe me. Not this easily. Not after everything I’ve done, everything I’ve hidden, everything I’m still hiding.
“You shouldn’t,” I whisper. “You don’t know the complete story.”
“Then tell me.”
His voice isn’t angry or demanding. It’s quiet, steady—like he’s standing in an open doorway waiting for whatever truth I’m about to drop on him.
I close my eyes.
For one second, I want to tell him everything—every lie, every scar, every betrayal that shoved me onto this path. I want someone else to carry even a sliver of the weight I’ve dragged alone for years.
But wanting is dangerous.Wanting gets people killed.
A shaky breath slips out of me.
No.Not everything.Not yet.
Something brushes my temple.
My eyes snap open.
