Page 63 of Break My Heart

Silence stretches between us. I’ve spent my whole life learning how to dodge verbal blows without flinching. But this? Christin? I caused her pain. Me. I swore I’d be different from my family because I was wronged. “I’m so sorry, Chris.”

She doesn’t say anything. Her silence is more telling than words. I go on, “When things started to feel real with you, some part of me defaulted to what I was taught from birth.”

“And that includes?”

“Vitriol. Dismissal.”

“It’s good you can name what I felt.”

“I do. And I regret it because it wasn’t directed at you.”

“So, you repeated a pattern?”

“Yes.”

“You still hurt me.”

“I know.” Then, because I can’t help myself, I rush out, “Hurting you was the worst mistake of my life, and I know I can’t fix it with an explanation.”

“Good,” she says quietly. “Because you can’t.”

“But would you be opposed to me trying?” I hold my breath.

She studies me for a long moment. “Trying isn’t the problem, Leo.” Her voice softens. “Giving up the moment it gets hard would be.”

I hear the unspoken fear in Christin’s tone. But she isn’t asking me to walk away either.

For tonight, that’s more than I ever expected.

We walk through the quiet corridors connecting the restaurant to the main hotel, warm air settling around us, everything deliberate, when she remarks, “You’ve spent your life seeking approval.”

“Yes.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m figuring out whose approval truly matters.”

“That sounds uncomfortable.”

“It is.”

When we stop at the lifts, she turns to face me. “Tonight was…good.”

“I’ll take that.”

I should leave. I know I should. Instead, I move closer. Slowly. Intentionally. Allowing her the chance to stop me.

She doesn’t.

I lower my head and brush my lips against her cheek—barely there. Just enough to feel a familiar thrill in my veins as it sparks memories of the way I used to trace every inch of her skin with my lips.

When I pull back, her eyes drop to my mouth for a fraction of a second before lifting again. “That was a risky choice.”

“I know.”

She can’t prevent the twitch of a smile. “You’re still on probation.”

Despite everything, I smile. “Understood.”