"Yeah." I could hear the smile in his voice. "It was."
"I can't believe I waited thirty-two years for that."
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Worth the wait?"
I propped myself up on one elbow, looking down at him. His hair was a mess. His lips were swollen. He looked absolutely wrecked, and absolutely happy.
"You were worth the wait," I said. "All of it. Every moment."
His expression shifted. Softer. Unguarded. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I love you, Ava."
The words should have terrified me. Should have sent me running, walls slamming back into place again.
Instead, they settled into place. Like a key finally finding its lock.
"I love you too."
Watson's indignant yowl echoed from somewhere in the hallway—he'd been exiled, and he was not taking it well.
"He's going to hold this against us," I murmured.
"He'll forgive us. Eventually."
"You don't know him like I do. He's incredibly petty."
Brian laughed and pulled me closer, tucking me against his side like I belonged there. Like I'd always belonged there.
Maybe I always had.
I closed my eyes. His heartbeat was slow now. Steady. Mine was still catching up. Outside, the city hummed its endless song of sirens and traffic and the distant rumble of the subway. The same sounds I'd fallen asleep to for years.
But everything was different now.
Brick by brick, wall by wall, until I was sealed inside a fortress of my own making. I'd told myself it was strength. Independence. Freedom.
It was loneliness. I just hadn’t known.
"Hey." Brian's voice was soft, drowsy. "Stop thinking so loud."
"How do you know I'm thinking?"
"You get this little furrow right here." He reached up without opening his eyes and pressed his finger gently between my brows, right where it always formed. "Dead giveaway."
I caught his hand, pressed a kiss to his palm. "I was thinking about how wrong I've been."
"About what?"
"About needing people. And pretending I didn’t." I laced my fingers through his. "I thought it made you weak. Turns out it just makes you... not alone."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he squeezed my hand.
"You're not alone anymore," he said. "Not with me. That's a promise."
I believed him.
For the first time in all those years, I let myself stay with the belief.
