She keeps going. “That kind of love doesn’t just happen. Not unless it’s already somewhere inside you. Maybe buried under a mountain of old damage, but still alive.”
The words hit harder than they should. Somewhere deep and locked up, where even I’ve stopped checking for cracks. She says it like it’s true. Like she believes it.
And I can’t fucking breathe.
So, I pull away my hand away.
Just enough to remind her—and myself—what this issupposedto be.
“I meant to tell you,” I say, eyes forward now, tone shifting. “Julian and Lila will have their own rooms in the mansion next week.”
She blinks. “Wait. What?”
I glance over. Her expression is stunned. Eyes wide, lips parted like she forgot how to finish the sentence.
“But… you didn’t tell me anything.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“I mean, before the decision was made.”
I shrug. “It’s done.”
She leans back like I’ve knocked the air out of her. “I just… that means I can be closer to them. I thought I’d have to keep doing these weekend trips and awkward handoffs. This—this matters.”
“It’s not permanent,” I say, but my voice betrays something quieter. “Just a step. For now.”
She nods, but her throat works like she’s swallowing something thick.
Silence stretches again, but it’s different this time. Not the awkward kind. The kind loaded with everything unspoken.
She looks at me then—really looks. There’s salsa at the corner of her mouth and tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she doesn’t blink them away.
“Thank you,” she says softly. “For giving them space. Even if it’s temporary.”
I shift, jaw tightening. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”
She waits, brows slightly raised.
“This isn’t about you. You got hurt because of my world, and I won’t have your siblings suffering for it. I don’t allow collateral damage. This is damage control.”
Her lips curve. Not into a smile—into something knowing.
“You really suck at lying about the good parts of yourself.”
I look away.
“You know it sounds like an excuse,” she adds, wiping her mouth with a napkin like she’s letting me squirm.
A beat.
“And if I kissed you right now?”
I don’t blink.
“I’d let you.”
She leans in, slow, like she’s testing gravity.
