Page 58 of All The Pretty Little Lies

My hands find her waist, pulling her closer as I deepen the kiss. She tastes like salt and sunshine, and I can't get enough. I pull her tighter against me, but she stiffens.

I pull back immediately, searching her face for signs of distress. "Too much?" I ask.

Vesper shakes her head, frustration evident in the furrow of her brow. "No, I...I liked it. I just..." She trails off, struggling to find the words.

"It's okay," I assure her, running my hands up and down her arms soothingly. "Your body and your mind aren't always going to be in sync, remember? It's normal. Do what feels right to you.”

I watch as Vesper's internal struggle plays out across her face. Her eyes dart around nervously, never quite meeting mine, and her teeth worry at her lower lip. It's a habit I've noticed before, one that speaks volumes about her anxiety. I wantnothing more than to pull her close, to shield her from the world that's hurt her so badly. But I know that's not what she needs right now.

"Hey," I say softly, ducking my head to catch her gaze. "We don't have to do anything else. This isn't a race, Vesper. There's no finish line we need to cross."

She nods, but I can see the frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I know," she whispers. "I just...I hate feeling so broken. So damaged."

My heart clenches at her words. "You're not broken, sweetheart. You're healing. There's a difference."

I take her hand, leading her to a nearby rock formation. We sit side by side, our shoulders touching, watching as the waves crash against the shore. The rhythmic sound is soothing, and I feel some of the tension leave Vesper's body.

"Can I tell you something?" I ask, keeping my voice low and gentle. She nods, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "When I was younger, maybe fifteen or sixteen, I got caught in the crossfire of a deal gone bad and took a bullet to the shoulder."

Vesper gasps softly, her hand instinctively reaching out to touch the spot where the scar lies hidden beneath my shirt. I let her, savoring the warmth of her palm against my skin.

"It wasn't even that serious of an injury," I continue. "But for months afterward, I couldn't stand the sound of fireworks or car backfires. My body would react before my brain could process what was happening. Heart racing, palms sweating, the whole nine yards."

"What did you do?" Vesper asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I shrug. "Learned to cope. Found ways to ground myself when the panic hit. But mostly, I just gave myself time. And eventually, it got better."

She's quiet for a long moment, processing my words. When she finally speaks, her voice is thick with unshed tears. "But what if it never gets better for me? What if I'm always like this?"

I turn to face her, taking both of her hands in mine. "Then we'll figure it out together. You, me, Oz, the whole damn Second Sons if that's what it takes. You're not alone in this, Vesper."

A single tear escapes, trailing down her cheek. I resist the urge to brush it away, knowing she needs to feel whatever she's feeling right now. Instead, I just hold her hands, offering silent support as she works through her emotions.

"I want to be able to feel...desire without panic following close behind.”

“Considering what I just walked into, I’d say you’re figuring it out with Oscar,” I offer with a smile.

She blushes at the reminder. “This is so hard to explain. One second, I’m fine. The next, a single touch makes me want to jump out of my skin. I can’t control it."

My heart aches for her. I've seen the way she flinches at sudden movements, how she tenses when anyone gets too close. The auction - that godforsaken event where she was sold like property - has left scars that run deeper than any physical wound.

"Vesper," I say softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into my touch, almost unconsciously, and I feel a surge of protectiveness. "There's no timeline for healing. What you've been through...it takes time to process."

I watch as she swallows hard, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The rising sun paints her skin in hues of gold and pink, making her look ethereal, untouchable. But I know the reality. She's flesh and blood, vulnerable and strong all at once.

“I just wish I could turn it off sometimes. The fear, the anxiety...it's exhausting."

I reach out, taking her hand in mine. Her fingers are cold despite the warmth of the morning, and I rub them gently between my palms. "I know, sweetheart.”

A ghost of a smile flits across her face, there and gone in an instant. "I'm not used to that," she admits. "Having people I can trust."

"Well, get used to it," I tell her, my voice gruff with emotion. "Because we're not going anywhere.”

VESPER

I closethe door to my room, leaning against it with a sigh. The evening's events playing through my mind like a film reel, each moment tinged with a newfound electricity I can’t quite explain. Dinner had been a lively affair, filled with easy laughter and playful banter, but beneath it all, an undercurrent of tension thrummed.

I push off the door and pad across the wooden floor to my bed, sinking onto the edge. The soft glow of my bedside lamp cast shadows across the room, creating an intimate cocoon that only intensified my swirling thoughts.

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