“You thought you knew better.”
She stood. Zach froze.
Don't go.
He didn't say it. Couldn't.
Chapter 43
Compromised
Emma didn’t leave.
She moved closer instead, sitting on the edge of his bed. Close enough for him to soak in the warmth of her body, to see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes.
“You don’t get to make my decisions,” she said.
Her voice was quiet, but there was steel underneath. The same strength shown on the cliff, when she refused to let him give up.
“I know?—”
She put a finger over his lips, stopping him. “No, I don’t think you do.” She leaned forward. “You don’t get to make unilateral decisions about what I can handle. About what risks I’m willing to take. About who I choose to—” She stopped, seeming to reconsider. “You don’t get to decide for me.”
Something cracked open inside his chest. Not painful. More like a release. Loving her was a risk he was going to take.
“You’re right.”
Emma blinked. “What?”
“You’re right. I was wrong.” The admission should have felt like weakness. Instead, it felt like the most honest thing he had said in years. “I was afraid.”
“Of Marcus?”
“Of losing you.” The words came easier now, like a dam breaking. “Not of the enemy, or the fight. But of you becoming a target because of me.”
“I became a target anyway,” Emma said softly. “Before we got involved.”
He flinched. She was right.
“I thought keeping distance would keep you safe,” he said. “I thought if I maintained control, if I stayed separate—if I didn’t let myself feel anything—I could keep you out of the line of fire.”
“And now?”
He took a shuddering breath. “Now I know I was wrong.”
The following silence was profound. Emma didn’t rush to fill the space. She simply looked at him with those steady brown eyes, seeing everything he’d laid bare.
Then she did something unexpected. She laughed, a soft, almost sad sound. “You really think you’re that good at hiding what you feel?”
Zach frowned. “I?—”
“Zach, I know.” She reached out, her fingers brushing his jaw. “The way you watch me. The way you position yourself between me and any potential threat. The way you—” she shook her head. “You’re not as unreadable as you think you are. Not to me.”
That landed like a physical blow. He thought he was maintaining distance, keeping his walls intact. But she’d seen right through him anyway.
Maybe she’d always seen through him.
Zach spent his entire adult life building walls and maintaining control; he’d been wrong about all of it.
