I edge closer, voice dropping to something rawer, truer.
“Give me your worst, baby. Break me if you need to. I’ll still come crawling right back.”
My fingers flex at my sides, fighting the urge to touch her.
“I’ve been living a nightmare I never chose. That contract, that marriage, none of it was mine.Youwere the only thing I ever wanted, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”
I tilt my forehead to hers, barely a breath between us.
“I’ll burn everything down to keep you, even if you can’t say you want me yet.”
Her nails rake across my chest, leaving scratches that sting, but I barely notice. I tilt her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet mine, and the look in them—anger, fear, want—pushes me over the edge.
I claim her mouth with mine, teeth grazing, tongue teasing, the heat and desperation between us exploding in a heady rush. She tries to pull away, twists, shoves but her body betrays her. Hips pressing into mine, hands tangling in my hair, trembling against me despite the fury in her eyes.
“Don’t lie to yourself,” I breathe between kisses, teeth nipping at her jaw. “Not about this.”
She gasps, swallows, shakes her head but when she finally breathes my name, the tremor in her voice splinters something inside me. I lock my arms around her, heart hammering, pulse crashing against hers until the world narrows to fire, want, and the feral ache I’ve been strangling back for too long.
“I didn’t want you here,” she whispers, raw and shaking.
“I don’t care,” I growl. Every word tears its way out, like a confession I can’t take back. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Not until every card is on the table and we rip this shit open.” I press my forehead to hers. “I’m not leaving room for doubt to keep us apart.”
She shoves me hard, fierce, trembling, and I feel the force of every ounce of her fury and fear. Her body is a storm pressed against mine, a mix of anger, hurt, and something raw I can’tname—something that twists my gut and ignites a hunger I can’t control.
“Stop,” she whispers, and it’s not just a command, it’s steel wrapped in silk, fragile and unbreakable all at once, a warning laced with trembling desire.
“Lily—” I start, my voice rough, and throat tight, desperate to soothe, to reach her, to erase the tension wedging its way between us.
“Don’t.” Her voice cuts me off before I can speak, sharp and clear, full of fire and fragile edges. “Don’t say my name. Not like that.”
Her words hang in the air, jagged and impossible, and I feel it—the need to protect herself, to hold the pieces together, even as every shred of her betrays her desire for me. She’s furious, yes, but beneath it, I can feel the tremor in her pulse, the hesitation in her fight, the electric pull of the forbidden fire between us.
“You can’t just walk back into my life like you never left,” she says, voice shaking, “when in a few months you’ll be giving her your last name, replacingmyring with hers. It’s cruel of you to even show up here now.”
My breath catches—sharp, involuntary, and cruel.
Yeah. I earned that.
But the way she says it—like the words hurt her on the way out, like she’s been carrying them around just waiting for the chance to bleed—cuts deeper than any bullet I’ve ever taken.
This is the moment Jonathan warned me about. The one where silence is safer. Where I keep the line clean, keep her out of it until we know more.
Fuck that.
Fuck caution. Fuck secrets. Fuck doing this the way I’m supposed to.
I’m tired of choosing strategy over her and calling it protection. I’m tired of watching her brace for a future that doesn’t exist anymore.
If I don’t tell her now, I’ll lose her for good.
I step closer, just enough for her to feel the heat coming off me. “You think I don’t know that?” My voice comes out low, worn down to the bone. “You think I don’t wake up every goddamn day choking on it?”
She scoffs, brittle. Her fingers curl at her sides, torn between striking me or grabbing me. “Matt, you’re engaged. You stood there and let them cast me out. And now you want to tell me you regret it?”
“I don’t regret it,” I say, fast and rough. “And I’m not engaged anymore.”
The words land between us like a dropped glass.
