Because of you.
I don’t say the words out loud. I can’t. They feel too fragile. Too dangerous.
I love him.
The realization floods my chest, warm and terrifying all at once. But I don’t tell him. I can’t risk hearing that he doesn’t feelthe same. Not when part of me still believes this is temporary for him. That eventually he’ll wake up and realize I’m not enough.
After all…he still hasn’t taken my virginity. If he really wanted me, wouldn’t he have by now?
The thought twists painfully inside me.
“If you don’t want me in your apartment,” I say, forcing the words out, “that’s fine. And if you don’t have another unit for me, I’ll figure something out. I always do. But I’m not going to Chicago.”Or anywhere else.
Something dangerous and fierce flashes in his eyes. Before I can react, he moves.
One second, I’m standing in the middle of the room, the next, my back hits the wall. His hands come down on either side of my head, caging me in. His body presses close, heat radiating off him.
“You think I don’t want you?” he says, his voice low and rough.
My breath catches. “I don’t know what to think.”
“You’re mine,” he says.
The words slam into me.
“Do you understand that?” he continues, his gaze burning. “Mine.”
My pulse jumps. “Then why are you sending me away?”
His jaw flexes. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Because if something happens to you, I won’t survive it.”
I stare at him, stunned.
“My plan was never to let you go,” he adds, quieter now but no less intense. “It was temporary. I planned to sell Wilder House and follow you to Chicago.”
“What?” The word barely escapes through my shock.
“You think I could just walk away from you?” His mouth twists into a semblance of a smile. “I built this place to save people. But you…” His voice drops. “You saved me.”
Emotion crashes through me so fast my eyes sting.
“You are my home now, Millie. Wherever you are is where I belong.”
My chest aches. The fear that’s lived inside me for years…the certainty that no one would ever truly want me, fractures.
But one question still burns.
“Then why,” I whisper, “haven’t you claimed me?”
His eyes darken instantly. “I thought you weren’t ready,” he says.
“I am,” I answer, my voice trembling but steady. “And if I’m really yours…then prove it.”
Something in him snaps.
His hands slide to my waist. “Careful, baby girl,” he murmurs. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I do,” I say.
