He swallowed hard.
“But you keep leavingmefirst.”
Her knees nearly buckled.
He brushed by her, bracing his hands on the counter around her hips.
“I’m here,” he whispered, forehead close to hers. “But you’ve gotta stop shoving me away every time your fear gets too loud.”
Heather shook her head, sobbing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.” His voice softened.
“ I kept quiet because I thought you needed space. But you don’t need space, Heather.”
“You need someone steady. And I’m trying—God, I’m trying—but I cannae keep beingpunishedfor loving you when life gets hard.”
She sucked in a breath.
He swallowed again, visibly struggling to hold himself steady.
“But even that’s not what broke me.”
Her eyes snapped up.
“What broke me,” he said quietly, painfully honest, “was knowing you were hurting… and you didn’t let me hold any of it.”
Her breath collapsed in her chest.
“Oh…”
His fingers slid to her jaw, tilting her face up, steady as bedrock.
“I want all of you,” he murmured. “Even the storms. Even the rough bits.”
He leaned in, voice cracking.
“But you’ve got to let me in, mo chridhe… or you’ll lose me to walls you built before I ever walked through your door.”
Her breath hitched violently.
She felt that line in her bones.
In shame, she pressed her face into his chest, voice small and wrecked.
“I didn’t know I was hurting you. I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry about your mum. All of it.”
Her voice splintered.
“I’m scared.”
“So am I,” he breathed. “But I’m still here.”
His thumb stroked beneath her eye.
“And I love you.”
