“You were right,” I said. “About my mother. About the way I froze. About the way I was trained. About the way silence can still choose a side.”
Drew swallowed.
Barely.
But I saw it.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
His jaw tightened.
“You said that.”
“I know. I’m saying it again because I mean it more now.”
He stared at me, snow melting on his lashes, looking like the most beautiful, stubborn, impossible man I had ever seen.
God, I loved him.
The truth rose in my chest, huge and terrifying.
Not elegant.
Not polished.
Not something I could control with a pretty smile.
Just truth.
“I confronted her,” I said.
His brows pulled together.
“My mother. After you left.” My voice shook once. I steadied it. “I told her you weren’t a prize. You weren’t a Montgomery upgrade. You weren’t a better trophy than Tristan Vale. I told her you were Drew. And that I loved you.”
Drew went still.
So still the whole mountain seemed to hold its breath with him.
Inside the house, someone gasped.
Drew’s eyes cut toward the window.
Mine did too.
Three faces vanished badly from behind the kitchen glass.
Jace’s voice came faintly through the door.
“Subtle, Mom. Real subtle.”
I turned back to Drew, cheeks burning.
“Are they watching?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful.”
