“Did he give you those bruises I saw?” His voice is tender. “Before the wedding?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know how hard to hit him when this is all over.”
I laugh. Actually, laugh at this absurdity. “You’re—unbelievable.”
He hooks an arm around me and hauls me against his warm body. This is too much, too close, but my body betrays me, craving it. His embrace locks me in place, my ear catching the heavy, driving beat of his heart while his hand traces small circles on my back.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur into his shirt.
“For what?”
“Dragging you into my family drama.”
I feel more than hear his soft laugh. “Trust me, I’ve been in your family drama for years.” His hand continues its path up and down my spine. “Longer than you know.”
I wish Julien had been there every time. Holding me like this and making everything okay instead of…
“Do you know those little couple videos?” I ask. “The ones where they dance in the rain?”
“No.”
Normally, after my father has a bad night, I binge-watch reels like that. Just scroll and scroll. “They look so happy and free, even though they’re getting drenched. Hair a mess, clothes ruined.” I breathe out the fear and guilt that’s been choking me, replacing it with his scent. “And maybe they had the worst day. But in that moment? It’s like the best time they’ve ever had.”
Just like this.
I used to wonder what that felt like. To be so happy about something so simple. To not care how you look or what people think.
To just… be.
His arms tighten around me, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head. “It’s not your fault,” he murmurs into my hair. “None of it.”
I want to argue. Want to list all the ways I’ve failed Amelia, my parents, and myself. But his warmth seeps through me, thawing parts of me frozen for so long I’d forgotten it could be otherwise.
I burrow deeper. “We should go.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Because Amelia. Because my parents. Because I don’t think I can survive without this from now on. “Sun’s coming up. The others will notice we’re gone.”
“Let them.”
“But—”
“Dakota.” He strokes my hair. “Just stay. For a minute. Please.”
Damn him.
We stay like that, his arms locked around me like he’s afraid I’ll bolt. The sun climbs higher, painting the bell tower in gold, and birds call to each other from the trees beyond the fence, oblivious to the monsters below.
“Thank you,” I say, the words muffled against his chest.
His hand stills in my hair. “You’re welcome.”
