“It’s honest.” He leans down. Presses his forehead to mine. I feel his breath, warm and uneven.
“I see you, Cassia.”
Three words. No elaboration. No caveat. Just the raw admission, pressed against my skin like a brand.
My chest aches.
“I don’t know what to do with that.”
“You don’t have to do anything with it.” He pulls back an inch. His stare searches mine. “Just stop running.”
I think about Chicago. About the letter I stopped reading.
“What if I don’t know how to stay and be seen at the same time?”
“Then we figure it out.” His mouth quirks. “I’m learning to need things again, it turns out. You can learn to take up space. We’ll be disasters together.”
A laugh escapes me. Surprised. Real.
“Disasters together.” I repeat it. “That’s your pitch?”
“Best I’ve got.”
And somehow that matters more than pretty promises.
I reach up. Touch his face the way he’s touching mine. The roughness of his jaw beneath my fingers. The warmth of his skin.
He goes still.
“I had a plan,” I say. “For this marriage. Keep my head down. Be useful. Don’t expect anything.”
“How’s that working out?”
“Terribly.” I trace the line of his cheekbone. Watch his stare darken. “You keep looking at me like I matter.”
“You do matter.”
Two beats of silence. His breath hitches against my palm.
“That’s what scares me. I’m starting to believe it.”
“Good.” His voice is rough. “That’s a start.”
He kisses me then. Not hungry like before. Slow. Careful. His palm cupping my face like I’m the thing he’s been afraid to hold.
When he pulls back, I don’t look away.
My hand stays on his jaw. Fingers pressed against the pulse I can feel hammering beneath his skin.
I don’t drop it.
16
DANTE
Renzo finds me in the east hallway.
I’m coming from a meeting with the port captains, head full of shipping routes and profit margins, when he steps out of the shadows like he materialized from the stone itself.
