And the expression on her face is pure fury.
"You." Her voice is hoarse, but the anger in it is unmistakable. "This is your fault."
The words hit me like a physical blow, but I deserve them. I deserve every bit of her rage. "Savannah?—"
"No." She tries to sit up, winces, and falls back against the pillows. "You don't get to 'Savannah' me. You sent me away. You isolated me. You made me live in constant fear while you played your games with my father and Thad. And I was so stressed, so terrified, that I—" Her voice breaks. "I almost lost our baby."
"I know." I move closer to the bed, my hands shaking. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry?—"
"Sorry isn't good enough!" Tears spring into her eyes, and this is the opposite of her being calm, but I don’t know what to say or do. "You can't keep doing this, Romeo. You can't keep controlling everything to protect me. You can't keep makingdecisions for me like I'm some fragile thing that needs to be managed. I'm not fragile. I'm not weak. I'm your partner, or I'm supposed to be, but you won't let me be."
Every word is a knife in my chest, and I deserve every single one. "You're right." My voice is barely a whisper. "You're absolutely right."
"Then why?" She's looking at me with so much pain and confusion. "Why do you keep doing this? Why can't you just let me in?"
I stand there, looking at her, and I know this is it. This is the moment where I either tell her the truth or lose her forever.
And I can't lose her. I can't.
"Because I'm terrified." The words come out as a harsh whisper, pulled straight from whatever soul I have. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to love someone without consuming them. I don't know how to be vulnerable, how to let someone share my life. I don’t know how to love someone at all."
I move closer to the bed, and she doesn't tell me to stop.
"I have antisocial personality disorder.” The admission feels like ripping open my chest. "Or at least, that's what the therapist my father sent me to when I was sixteen said. I don't feel things the way other people do. Most of the time, I feel—empty. Like I'm watching the world through glass."
Savannah is staring at me, and I can't read her expression.
"But then I met you." I wipe at the tears still pooling in my eyes. "And suddenly I felt something. It was terrifying and overwhelming. And I didn't know what to do with it. I still don't know what to do with it. And I didn’t have anyone to go to about it except you, the source of it. I tried to talk to Luca, but he couldn’t really understand. I didn’t want to put it on Giulia. She’s the only other person I’ve ever cared for at all."
"Romeo—"
"You're the only thing that makes me feel human," I continue, the words pouring out now. "The only thing that makes me feel anything real. When I'm with you, I'm not just a weapon or a tool or a monster. I'm—I'm a person. I'm someone who can feel and want and hope."
I sink down into the chair beside her bed. "And that terrifies me," I whisper. "Because what if I'm not capable of real love? What if I hurt you? What if I fail you? What if I'm exactly what everyone says I am—a monster who destroys everything he touches?"
Savannah is quiet for a long moment, and I can see her thinking about everything I've just said. Then she squeezes my hand.
"Romeo, look at me."
I do, and her eyes are soft now—understanding instead of furious.
"You're not a monster," she says firmly. "You're a man who was raised in violence and taught that love is weakness. You're a man who's trying to unlearn a lifetime of conditioning. And yes, you make mistakes. Yes, you push me away when you should pull me close. But that doesn't make you a monster. You’re trying to learn how to be more human. And I’m not always as patient as I should be—but what I needed was what you just gave me. I needed you to be totally honest with me."
"I don't know how to be human." The admission hurts. "I don't know how to do this right.”
"Then we'll figure it out together." She pulls my hand to her chest, holding it against her heart. "But you have to stop pushing me away. You have to stop trying to protect me from yourself. You have to let me be your partner. That means trusting me with the ugly parts. The parts you think make you unlovable."
"What if they do?" My voice breaks. "What if you see all of me and decide I'm not worth it?"
"Then that's my choice to make." Her voice is gentle but firm. "Not yours. You don't get to decide for me what I can handle. You don't get to push me away because you're afraid I'll leave. You have to let me see you, so I can love you, and see if I’m brave enough to do this."
The words hit me like a slap, and I know she's right. I've been so focused on keeping her safe that I've been suffocating her. Controlling her. Doing exactly what I swore I wouldn't do.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so fucking sorry. For everything. For—" I let out a long, hard breath. "For almost losing you. For almost losing our baby."
"You didn't lose us." She reaches up with her free hand and touches my face, wiping away my tears. "We're both right here. But Romeo, you have to promise me—no more secrets. No more trying to protect me from the truth. We're together. For better or worse. That means we face things together."
"I promise." I lean into her touch, and it feels like everything rushes out of me, all the fear and tension that I’ve been carrying. "I promise, Savannah. No more secrets. I'll—I'll try to be better. I'll try to be the man you deserve."
