He protected me without making me feel weak. Kissed me like I was something precious instead of temporary.
And I punished him for it.
Because of his wounds. Because of mine.
I drag the sleeve of the sweatshirt across my eyes and stand, pacing the living room. My heart is racing now, but it’s different than before. Not panicked.
Clear.
No more hiding.
If I really want him, then I have to be brave enough to say so.
And brave enough to fight for him.
I stop pacing and stand in the middle of the living room, one hand pressed flat to my sternum. My heart is still racing, but it’s steady now. Focused.
I pick up my phone.
My thumb hovers over his name.
My pulse stutters.
He might not answer.
He might be angry. Or closed off. Or already convinced that leaving was the right thing to do.
If I’m going to fight for him, I need to do it right.
I don’t call Cam.
I need one thing settled before I can face him. One obstacle removed. One excuse stripped away.
I scroll past his name and stop at another contact.
Noah Carroway — ERS Legal.
I don't hesitate.
He answers on the second ring. “Lila. I assume this is about dissolving the marriage contract.”
My chest tightens, but my voice doesn’t waver.
“No,” I say.
There’s a pause on the line. Papers rustle faintly, like he’s recalibrating. “Then… how can I help you?”
I walk to the window and stare out at the city. Cars move below. Lives continuing. People making choices without contracts attached.
“I need a clause removed,” I say.
Another pause. Longer now.
“That’s… unusual,” Noah says carefully. “Which clause?”
My reflection stares back at me in the glass. Tired eyes. Red-rimmed. But steady.
I think about the way Cam hesitated before touching me. The way everything between us lived in careful half-steps because of words someone else had written.
