Fear crept in. “Will it always be like this?”
“Not like this.” His tone eased. “Over time, we’ll learn your body. Your limits. Your tells. We’ll know what you need before the crash even comes.”
He pressed a kiss just beneath my ear. “And that’s my job. To hold you through it. To steady you. To take care of you until everything finds its balance again.”
His promise hung between us.
The mattress shifted. A blanket settled around my shoulders. Comfort enveloped me as he pulled me back against his chest, curling his body around mine. His fingers slipped into my hair, combing through my curls.
The world dimmed to breathing and stillness.
I melted into him, the faint scent of chocolate reaching me a second before the gentle crinkle of foil. An item I hadn’t known he’d stashed away.
Then his arm slid forward, offering a piece of dark chocolate between his fingers. “Eat this.”
I parted my lips, letting him place it on my tongue. Sweetness bloomed rich and deep, melting down my throat.
My pulse settled. My thoughts sharpened at the edges.
“It helps balance you,” he explained gently. “Your blood sugar drops after scenes like that. The adrenaline crash, the endorphin dip—it hits hard. Sugar helps you come back.”
He smiled again—small, fond. “And it’s good for the soul.”
“Thank you,” I said. “For all of it.”
His hand paused in my hair. “You don’t need to thank me,” he murmured. “You trusted me. I just took care of what you gave.”
I hummed, sleepy and content, my body sinking deeper into him. The world blurred at the edges—his heartbeat, his scent, the silk sheets—all melting into one perfect quiet.
Just before sleep claimed me, I tilted my head, whispering a single truth into the dark.
“Thank you for wanting me.”
He stilled. Then—
“I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you,” he said, voice trembling with sincerity. “And now that I have you, I’ll spend every day proving I’m worthy of it.”
His promise followed me into sleep—certain, true, home.
Chapter 35
***
Damien
Thank you for wanting me.
The words haunted me—echoed through my skull like a melody I couldn’t unhear.
The way she’d said them. So small. So painfully sincere.
Who made her feel that way?
Who broke her down until gratitude became her default instead of expectation?
Until being wanted felt like a privilege she hadn’t earned?
Rage and sorrow tangled together in my chest.
