The words are quiet, but they hit deep.
He pulls back just enough to look at me again, his fingers brushing gently over my cheekbone, careful, like he already knows it hurts.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get there fast enough.”
Remorse fills his eyes, heavy and real, and I shake my head immediately, even if the movement makes the room tilt slightly.
“Don’t you dare feel guilty for what that bastard did,” I say, my voice stronger now despite everything. “You saved me.”
Tears slip free before I can stop them, and he catches them without hesitation, his lips brushing my skin, gentle in a way that feels like the opposite of everything that came before.
“I should’ve gone,” he mutters. “Taken the cotton candy instead of you.”
“No,” I cut in softly, pulling him closer just enough to make him look at me. “I’m a grown woman. There’s nothing wrong with me going to a stand on my own, and nothing wrong with my boyfriend letting me.”
He kisses my forehead softly.
“Pan?” I search his eyes. “I didn’t mean those words…” My voice cracks.
Dex brings his face closer to mine. “I know. You’re not a good liar.”He tries to joke, but his stare turns serious.
“I lost control,” he says, his voice raw.
“I know.”
I study him. He’s looking down, almost ashamed. “I hate that you saw that part of me.”
I put my hand on his cheek, and he looks up.
“I don’t care. You saved me. You lost control, yeah, but you lost it on the person hurting me, not on me. And I didn’t mind, Dex. I love you, and… I don’t think I’m that black-and-white kind of woman anymore.” I swallow softly. “I think I like living in your grey now.”
I lift my head and press a soft kiss to his lips, grounding both of us.
“The only one to blame for any of this is Russel.”
My throat tightens slightly as another thought pushes through.
“Mason?”
The word comes out smaller than I mean it to.
Dex’s hands come up to frame my face again, steady, reassuring.
“He’s okay. A few broken ribs, some damage to his left hand, but nothing serious.”
Relief crashes into me so hard it almost hurts.
“He can’t play football?” I whisper, tears slipping free again.
“Just for a couple of months,” Dex says gently, brushing his thumb under my eye. “He’ll be back stronger than ever. No permanent damage.”
I nod, even if my chest still feels tight.
A knock sounds at the door, soft but firm, and before I can respond, it opens.
A nurse steps in, guiding a wheelchair.
Mason.
