Even if I know better than to trust it.
When the elevator dings and the doors slide open, Koen steps out first. I follow, keeping my distance, my thoughts tangled in everything unsaid between us. It’s strange, this mix of hurt and something I don’t want to call hope. Because I know better. Thirteen years of silence doesn’t up and disappear becausesomeone decides to apologize. But then again, maybe it’s not about the apology. Maybe it’s about what happens next.
Koen glances back at me, his expression unreadable, but there’s a question he doesn’t ask out loud.
I don’t answer it.
Not yet.
But as we walk toward the exit, I realize the weight between us feels a little lighter. Maybe it’s temporary. Maybe it’s not.
Either way, it’s more than I’ve had in a long time.
TWENTY
My skin feels alive, at war with my mind.
The hum of the car engine thrums in my ears as Sylus navigates Koen’s G-Wagon through the Vegas streets. Annabelle’s voice floats from the passenger seat as she talks animatedly with him. It’s light, easy—a perfect distraction for them.
For me? Not so much.
I drag my thumb across the corner of my mouth absentmindedly, trying to look out the window and not obsessively watch Nova’s every tremble. Her hand is clamped around mine like a vice, her breaths uneven. She’s fidgeting with the silver bracelet on her wrist, sliding it back and forth.
I should’ve noticed earlier. Should’ve seen how much she was struggling on the drive to the Plaza. She was up front then, and I’d been so busy wrestling my own demons that I didn’t see hers clawing at her. Of course, this is hard for her, being in a car after what happened to us.
For me, cars never became the enemy. I have my own shit to carry, my own scars, but Nova? It makes sense. It fucking makes sense. And it guts me that I didn’t piece it together sooner. Another thing I’ve ruined for her.
Another way her life is harder because of me.
I squeeze her hand, trying to offer her something. Her grip tightens, but she doesn’t look at me. I hate that this is one more thing she has to fight against.
Because of me.
I shift in my seat, trying to stay calm for her. Trying to channel the steady energy she gave me earlier when we were at the Plaza.
Leaving the house had been the hardest part, but my mind had screamed at me to turn back as I climbed into the car, every nerve in my body begging to bolt. Even standing in front of the hotel, I almost cracked. Almost begged them to take me home, to let me escape this. But I didn’t. I’d clung to the breathing techniques my therapist drilled into me, pulling each inhale and exhale as a lifeline.
And then Sylus placed her hand in mine.
Her small, warm hand was all it took for the world to shift. Not completely. Not enough to make the fear vanish. But enough to make it manageable. Enough to keep me standing there instead of bolting like the coward I am.
After that, it got easier. Slowly, gradually, but it was easier. There was stuff to do, things to check, places to inspect. Annabelle to evaluate.
Annabelle, who’s laughing now at some joke Sylus made, her voice spilling into the car, sounding like sunshine. I like her. I really fucking like her. She’s exactly the kind of friend Nova deserves—loyal, sharp, and unshakably in her corner.
Still, my focus is on Nova.My girl.
She’s my motivation for everything now. Every step I take, every time I push myself further than I think I can go, it’s because of her. And if she’s with me, I can do fucking anything.
The car finally comes to a stop in the garage, and I let out a quiet breath of relief, not for me, but for Nova. As much as I hateletting go of her hand, I release her grip to push the car door open and step out. The cool air of the garage hits me like a balm, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth that shoots through me when she reaches out for my hand again as soon as we’re standing side by side.
Fuck if I’d ever let this hand go.
Her fingers slip into mine as though they’re meant to be there, and together, we walk into the house, the faint smell of soy sauce and sesame oil greeting us as we step through the door. Voices come from the living room, and Nova squeezes my hand as we head toward the sound, finding the twins, Nicholas, and Ezra sprawled out on the couch and armchairs around a ridiculous amount of takeout containers.
Levi spots us first, springing up from his spot beside Ezra, the motion making Pebble flutter her wings indignantly. “Whoa there, little one,” Levi murmurs, steadying the pigeon with a practiced hand before flashing us his trademark grin. “Hey, guys! Annabelle. So good to see you again.”
Annabelle freezes, her eyes darting between Levi and Nova like she’s trying to confirm reality. Her hands fly to her cheeks, and she whisper-shouts to Nova,“Levi Lane knows my name!”
