Until I Wrote Him
“Because love does not climb walls, it waits at doors. And if you do not open them, it finds another home.”
The silence stretched.
“What’s your point?” I asked.
Kristov’s gaze sharpened. “If you want her, Roman, you don’t protect her by hiding the truth. You earn her trust by trusting her with it.”
I looked away.
“I already lost her,” I said quietly.
Kristov stood, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Then you haven’t earned her back yet.”
Rory’s hospital room smelled like antiseptic and stubbornness.
She looked better, color returning to her face, strength creeping back into her posture.