“I can’t.” His hand releases one of my wrists, slides down to grip my hip. Too tight. Possessive. “I can’t and I won’t and you already know that.”
I should push him away. Should use my free hand to shove him back, to enforce distance, to prove I’m not giving in.
Instead, my free hand tangles in his hair, pulling him closer even as I glare at him.
The kiss is inevitable. Angry. Desperate. We crash together like we’re both trying to hurt and heal simultaneously.
His hand on my hip loosens slightly, becomes less bruising, more reverent. Like he’s remembered I’m pregnant, that I’m fragile in ways I wasn’t before.
I bite his lip hard enough to taste blood. He groans into my mouth, the sound raw and needy.
We break apart breathing hard.
“This doesn’t mean forgiveness,” I say.
“I know.”
“This doesn’t mean I’m okay with what you did. This just means I’m tired of fighting something we both want.”
He kisses me again, gentler this time. “I’ll earn it. The forgiveness. The trust. Whatever you need. I’ll earn it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet, but I will.”
I search his face for lies. For manipulation. For any sign that this is strategy rather than truth.
I find none. Only raw honesty. Selfish and possessive and completely unapologetic, but honest.
“I need time,” I tell him.
“You have it.”
“Space to process this. To figure out what I actually feel versus what I’m just surviving.”
“Okay.”
“You have to stop lying to me. No more hiding truths because they’re inconvenient. No more manipulation.”
“Agreed.”
The promises should feel empty. Should feel like words he’ll break the moment it’s convenient, but something in his eyes makes me believe him.
Maybe I’m a fool. Maybe this is just more manipulation, more clever control disguised as vulnerability. Or maybe he’s finally being honest about what this is. About what we are.
“Come to bed,” he says quietly.
“Are you going to touch me?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Then we’ll just sleep.”
He releases me. Steps back, giving me space to decide.
I could go to bed alone. Could enforce the distance I claimed I needed. Instead, I take his hand.
