Madelaine winced. She hadn’t meant to admit that. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. But it was out now, hanging between them, fragile and undeniable.
“I almost came back,” she repeated, voice barely above a breath. “More than once.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
Because they would have taken you, too. Because loving me would have destroyed your life. Because I still don’t know whether telling you too much could put your whole world at risk.
Think about what you had to do to get here…and what happens if you say too much.
“I just—” she stopped talking abruptly, pausing her thought. “I just couldn’t risk it,” she concluded.
Jack searched her face, frustration and something softer warring in his expression.
“You keep talking like this thing—whatever it is—owns you.”
“It doesn’t own me,” she said quickly.Lie. Lie. Lie.
“Then why does it get to decide who you love?”
The question landed like a blow. Madelaine looked up at him. He was so close. Close enough that she could see a faint scar along his jaw that she didn’t recognize. Close enough that she could remember exactly how it felt to lean in.
To close that last inch.
“Jack…” His name came out softer than she intended. Almost a plea.
His gaze dropped—just for a second—to her mouth.
That was all it took. The air shifted. Something unspoken snapped tight between them. Madelaine’s heart pounded, loud enough she was sure he could hear it.
Don’t.You should not do this.
But she didn’t step back. And neither did he.
“Tell me to stop,” Jack said quietly.
She should have. She needed to.
Instead, she said, “I don’t want to.”
The words hung there, fragile and dangerous.
Jack’s hand lifted—slowly, like he was giving her time to pull away—and brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face.
His fingers lingered. Warm. Familiar. Everything inside her unraveled at once. Five years of distance collapsed into nothing. She leaned in before she could stop herself.
Just a fraction. Just enough to feel his breath.
Jack’s hand shifted, cupping her jaw gently, like he remembered exactly how.
“Madelaine…” Her name was a warning. Or a promise. Or both.
She didn’t know which.
She closed the distance.
Almost.
So close she could feel it—
