"You think I want you to leave?"
Another hit. Weaker now. My arms are shaking.
"You think that's what I need?"
I think about the past days. About watching him carry this weight alone. About the way he looked at Sophia's grief and said nothing.
About how much it must have cost him.
To stand there.
To stay silent.
To let the people he loves believe the worst.
I don't understand their world.
I don't understand the violence. The secrets. The impossible choices.
But I understand this.
Dante has been carrying things on his own for too long.
He's been the weapon. The protector. The one who does what needs to be done so others don't have to.
And no one ever asks what it costs him.
No one ever sees the weight.
"If you ever say that again," I choke out. "If you ever tell me you're going to leave?—"
My voice breaks.
"I will make you regret it."
Dante looks at me.
And I see something I will never forget.
His jaw trembles.
Just slightly. Just enough.
He's trying not to cry.
He's trying so hard.
His eyes are wet. His throat works as he swallows. His whole body is rigid with the effort of holding himself together.
The man who killed for his family. Who lied for them. Who let them hate him to keep them safe.
He's standing in front of me, fighting tears like a boy who's never been allowed to break.
It destroys me.
I step forward and wrap my arms around him.
I hold him as tight as I can.
