He stood at the edge of the room like he was wrestling a war inside his chest. Like if he looked at me again, he might unravel. I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Maybe both. My whole body was trembling—not from fear, but from the weight of everything unsaid between us. Every word we’d bitten back. Every stolen glance. Every night filled with silence instead of truth.
And then—
He turned.
Slowly. Deliberately. Eyes locked on mine.
"Do you know why I never kissed you," he said, his voice hoarse, broken, "no matter how many nights I spent inside you?"
The breath in my lungs caught. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted out. He started walking toward me, the space between us closing, inch by inch, heartbeat by heartbeat.
"It’s not because I didn’t want to," he said. "God, Emily. I wanted to. Every single time I touched you. I wanted to feel your lips. Taste you. Mark you. But I couldn’t."
His voice cracked at the end, just slightly. Enough to slice straight through me.
"Th
