I expect silence, maybe another apology. But instead, she almost chides me. “You’re not broken. You’re a survivor. That doesn’t make you broken. It makes you strong. You’re here, talking to me, even if it hurts. You’re still you, my brave Ace, no matter what they did to you.”
A tear slips down my cheek.Fuck.“I don’t feel strong.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But I see it. I see you. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. All this time, lies kept us apart. Lies from people who thought they were protecting us. I won’t let you keep me apart from you because you think you’re protecting me with it, because you think you’re not what I need. You’llalwaysbe what I need.”
Her words hang in the air, and I realize she’s right. It’s not lies or circumstances this time—it’s fear.My fear.
It’s like I’m back standing in front of that car, teetering on the edge of a decision that could change everything. The night that shaped both our lives forever. The night I lost her. But now, there’s a second chance right in front of me, a chance I never thought I’d have.
I push myself to my feet, and slowly, as if I were walking through water, I unlock the door and open it.
She almost falls backward, her wide eyes snapping up to mine in surprise before she pushes to the side, sliding against the wall to give me room to open the door fully, and then she settles back against it, her legs pulled close to her chest.
She’s wearing Sylus’s sweatpants—the fabric pools around her ankles, and his hoodie almost swallows her. The sleeves are too long, and somehow, she looks sodamnsmall in it, fragile in a way that guts me. Her hair is tucked into a loose braid, her cheeks wet with tears, her eyes red.
She’s a mess.
And still, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I think she’s stopped breathing. And I think I have too.
We just stare at each other for a moment, and then, before I can overthink it, I sink down on the opposite wall, facing her.
“Ace…” she whispers, her voice cracking on the nickname I hadn’t heard for eight years before today, having thought I had left it behind with her, thatAcedied the day she did.
I let myself look at her, reallylook at her. My gaze traces that small mark on her chin, a scar I never knew, a mark from a life I didn’t get to witness. A reminder of the years that kept ticking forward without me. Years that carved new stories into her skin while I was locked away, frozen in my own hell.
And then there’s the hoodie that doesn’t belong to me. The one that belongs tohim.
Sylus.
A sharp, bitter pain shoots through my chest, burning a hole through the hollow ache already there.They’re together.
But even as it hurts, a whisper of another feeling creeps in.Relief.Because it’s Sylus. If anyone has her, if anyone’s been there for her when I couldn’t be, I’m glad it’s him. Sylus will be good to her. He’ll be goodforher. He can give her things I couldn’t. Things I can’t.
Just because I was too broken to move on from her doesn’t mean she should’ve been trapped too. I can’t expect her to have stayed frozen in that same grief, in the same guilt.
She deserves someone whole. Someone who can actuallyofferher something.
Because what do I have to give her now? A handful of shattered pieces?
I’ve got nothing. And yet, here she is, her eyes still searching mine as if she sees something worth holding onto.
Her tears shimmer like broken glass. And as I look at her, at this girl who’s lived a life without me, who’s somehow still here, I realize one thing.
Even if I have nothing to offer, I still want her.
I stillneedher.
And God help me, I think I always will.
I let my foot slide forward until our toes meet with a small, hesitant touch—a sliver of a connection. It’s ridiculous how much it takes to make this move, to reach for her in this way. But when I do, when I brush my toe against hers, it grounds me and tells me this is real, that I’m not trapped in some cruel dream, still lying alone in the dark.
Her chest shudders, and she presses a trembling hand over her mouth. I move my toe slightly against hers. It feels meaningless in the face of everything she’s feeling, everything weare.But it’s all I can give right now. The only movement I’m capable of, even if I want to pull her into my arms, hold her, and promise that I’ll never let go again.
But somehow, it’s enough. I can see it in her eyes, the way they soften, the way hope flickers to life. Me trying… it’s enough.
“I want to be what you need. I’ll try to be what you need. But I don’t know how, and I can’t guarantee?—”
