A statement of fact.
There was nothing left to be said.
No more reasons to wait or hesitate. No more excuses about timing or grief or danger or all the reasons this was complicated.
Just inevitability.
Just want.
Just us.
I let her pull me toward the bedroom.
23
ELLA
For a second, I thought he might refuse.
Kane stood in the living room, coat off, eyes dark and stunned, like the ground had shifted beneath him and he wasn’t sure how to find his footing again.
And maybe it had.
Because mine certainly had.
Nothing in my life looked the same as it had forty-eight hours ago. Not my sister. Not my family. Not even myself.
Grief stripped things down. Burned away the unnecessary.
And what remained was brutally simple.
Life was short.
And I wanted him.
Not tomorrow. Not when things were safer or cleaner or emotionally convenient.
Now.
Because the world didn’t always wait.
I tugged his hand again, and this time he moved. Slow, reluctant steps like he was walking toward something dangerous—and knew it.
We reached the bedroom doorway. The air felt warmer here, heavier, as if the apartment itself understood what was about to happen and held its breath.
I stepped backward until the backs of my knees hit the mattress.
Kane stopped just in front of me.
Still holding my hand.
His gaze dragged slowly down my body, not rushed, not hungry in the careless way men sometimes looked at naked women, but deliberate.
Almost reverent.
And something vulnerable flickered across his face before he crushed it down.
“You’re grieving,” he said quietly. Roughly. Like the words hurt coming out. “And in shock. And you just found out your sister had a secret child and?—”
