Vesper’s laugh comes out broken, barely there.“You’re saying this like you’re sorry.”
I stare at her, at the way she’s curled into herself like she’s still protecting the parts of her we cracked.
“I am,” I say.“I’m sorry in ways I don’t have words for.”
Her chin lifts—defensive instinct, sunshine with a blade.“Okay, then prove it.”
“Prove it how?”I ask.
She gestures toward the empty space in the apartment like it’s evidence.“Stop acting like Cally being here is some personal attack.Stop looking like you’re about to bite his head off for breathing in the same room as me.”
I let out a humorless huff.“He breathes too fucking loud.”
She shoots me a look.“Monty.”
I hold her gaze, and I wish I could tell her the real reason.The one that would finally drag the truth into the light.
Could I?I don’t know if I can when I haven’t even confronted it myself.Last night when Cally and I almost fucked each other’s brains out, I realized everything that I kept locked away.Things I have to confront myself before I can say them out loud.Before I can offer anything to either one of them.Yet, I want to be a part of this, all of it.
“I’ll try.”It’s all I can promise.
Her eyes narrow, unimpressed.“That sounded like a hostage negotiation.”
“Because it feels like one,” I admit, and the honesty in it makes her expression soften a fraction.
I take a step closer, careful, like I’m approaching a skittish animal.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I say.“I don’t know how to be ...good at any of it.I can be good at hockey.I can be good at discipline.I can be good at control.”My voice drops.“I’m not good at loving—or sharing my life with anyone.”
Her breath catches, just slightly.
I push through anyway, because she deserves the truth even if it makes my skin burn.
“And I’m terrified that if I do it wrong, you’ll run,” I say.“And you’ll have every reason.”
Vesper’s eyes are wet now, but she rolls them like she’s annoyed with her own emotions.“God, you’re dramatic.”
“Am I?”I ask, and I hate that my voice sounds like it’s begging.“Or am I just finally saying what I feel out loud and you don’t like it?”
She stares at me for a long moment, her fingers tightening around the blanket.
Then she exhales, slow, like she’s letting go of a tiny piece of armor.
“I don’t want to run,” she says quietly.“I just don’t want to be the reason you two destroy each other.”
Fuck.I don’t like this one bit.
She says it like she means to take herself out of the equation, like she’s preparing to give up on us before we collapse in front of her.Her voice is calm, but I see it in the way her fingers curl against the blanket.She’s bracing.
“You’re not the reason,” I say instantly.
She gives me that look.
The one that says,Sure, Monty.
The one that sees right through the things I’m still too much of a coward to admit.
But her voice softens anyway.“Then go find him.Bring him back.Act like you mean it when you say you’re trying.”
