“You’re stronger than you know,” he finally says, voice hoarse with emotion. “And I hate that someone hurt you like that. If I ever see him…”
I squeeze his hand. “You won’t. He’s long gone. And I’m not a victim anymore.”
A few heartbeats pass, then his eyes meet mine again, something raw and real shining there. “You asked why I never had girlfriends,” he says softly. “It’s because I didn’t think I was capable of love. Not the kind that lasts. I was trained to follow orders, to shut off emotion. I didn’t think there was room for both... until you.”
Something breaks open in my chest. A dam I didn’t know I was holding.
“Until me?” I whisper.
He nods. “You make me want more. Not just for a night. Not just for a season. I want all of you, Izzy. Even the broken pieces. Especially the broken pieces.”
I lean in, pressing my forehead to his. “I want all of you too. No matter how guarded, or bruised, or complicated.”
The kiss that follows isn't rushed or desperate—it’s slow and reverent, like a vow whispered between souls.
Chapter 10
Nate
Isabel’s words keep looping in my head like a damn curse I can’t shake.
She’s light, in a world that’s always felt too dark.
Soft, when I’ve only known sharp edges and steel.
Sweet, in a way that makes my chest feel too tight and my fists too damn ready to swing.
Who the fuck would dare lay a hand on her?
The kind of man who doesn’t deserve to keep breathing.
I stare down at the wine glass in my hand, white-knuckled around the stem like I’m ready to crush it. My mind has already drawn ten different ways I'd end the bastard who hurt her.
“Nathan?” Her voice slices through the storm building inside me.
Her hand wraps around mine, steady but gentle, and she takes the glass from me before it shatters. My jaw is clenched so tight it aches.
She shouldn't have had to go through that alone.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, guilt riding my ribs like a vice. I drop the act, burying my face into her stomach as my arms wrap around her waist. Her fingers thread through my hair, slow and calming.
“Nate, it’s okay,” she murmurs, her touch anchoring me. “It’s part of my past. Now it’s your turn.”
I lift my head, still holding her close. “What was the question again?” I ask, pulling her gently into my lap, needing her near.
“I asked why you never got engaged,” she says, her voice light, like she’s trying not to dig too deep.
I draw slow circles over the skin of her thighs, feeling the goosebumps rise. Her breath hitches as it ghosts over my neck. Yeah. She feels it too.
“Well,” I say low, tilting my head so my lips brush the shell of her ear, “I am now… with the most important woman of my life.”
She huffs a soft laugh and presses her palm to my chest. “What a flatterer.”
I kiss her forehead, but her next words wipe the grin from my face.
“I meant before me.”
I lean back, eyes locked on hers. There’s no point in sugarcoating shit now.
