Page 76 of Hunter

My shoulders sag, the weight of his words crushing me. I feel so small, so fucking stupid.

“Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” His words are a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down at my feet. The rawness in his voice rips through me, and I stand there, holding my breath, waiting for the storm to break.

He runs a hand over his face, his frustration boiling over. “Let’s start with the latest shit show, then. The DEA.” He holds up his finger like he’s numbering his grievances, and I can’t even find the words to interrupt. “It’s the last straw, Sophia. It’s like everything I’ve been trying to hold together is shattering. I don’t know how to fix this. How do I get out of this without dragging everyone I care about into the mess with me?” His voice cracks, and for a moment, I see a glimpse of the vulnerability he has been hiding.

I open my mouth to say something, to tell him it’s not his job to protect everyone, that he doesn’t have to carry the weight ofthis alone, but before I can, he stops me with a look—a look that shatters me.

“Don’t you fucking dare say it, Sophia. Please. Don’t.” His voice is low, a plea wrapped in rage. I close my mouth immediately, my words dying before they leave my lips.

He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling with the effort to keep himself under control. “Number two. I don’t use your trauma to justify my need to protect you. If you’d just fucking understand why I do this, maybe—maybe we wouldn’t be fighting about it all the time.” His hand fists into his hair, pulling as if it could release the pressure building in his chest. “But you don’t. You keep seeing it as me trying to control you. And yeah, maybe I do try to control things, but this—this has nothing to do with you. It’s about me. It’s about me not being able to protect you from the people I’ve seen destroy lives, people who would do anything to hurt you.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My chest tightens, and I can’t breathe. This whole time, I’ve blamed him for the way he acted, for the way he tried to protect me. But I never stopped to ask why he felt that way, why it mattered so much.

He meets my eyes, and the raw fear and pain I see there is enough to shatter me. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Sophia. These people—they’re not just criminals. They’re monsters. They don’t care about anything but power. If there’s more than one of them, they’ll rip you apart, and I won’t be able to stop it.”

My lungs tighten, the weight of his words suffocating me.

He takes a deep breath, his voice shaking as he continues, “Every time you accuse me of using your trauma to justify my obsession with keeping you safe, it feels like you’re driving a fucking knife into my heart. I’m doing this because I care about you. I care about you more than I care about anything else. Sodon’t you dare ever think that it’s about controlling you. It’s about protecting the one person I’m afraid to lose.”

I can’t speak. I can’t move. The guilt I feel is overwhelming and suffocating. I’ve been so focused on my own pain, on my own fears, that I never once considered how much fear he’s been carrying for me. I’ve made him feel like he’s in the wrong for loving me enough to want to protect me. I’ve blamed him when all he has done is try to keep me safe.

I lower my gaze, unable to look at him anymore, the weight of my failure too much to bear.

“The root cause of my overprotectiveness…it’s from the helplessness I felt while you were missing. From the constant guilt, I carry every single fucking day I couldn’t protect you. That I couldn’t save you.” His voice cracks, raw and fractured, before he sinks into the couch, elbows on his knees, his head hanging low, eyes glued to the ground, as if it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Can you even begin to imagine what he’s feeling?

I try, I really do, and as I picture myself in his shoes, a lump forms in my throat. The thought of losing him—the thought of him being in danger—feels like a brutal punch to my chest. It’s not just a thought. It’s vile. It’s a wave of nausea and fear, and it rips through me with the force of something I can’t control. If I could, I would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant keeping him in the dark.

“I’m torn between respecting your choice to be independent or completely betraying who I am at my core, everything I’ve ever stood for, just to keep you safe.” His words are strained, like they’re being dragged out of him against his will. “I’ve been living with this fucking promise I made to you, to always keep you safe. And no matter how many times you tell me you can take care of yourself, I can’t—I can’t—stop wanting to protect you. It’s not something I can switch off.”

His voice breaks, and I feel a tear slip down my cheek. He’s drowning in guilt, in pain, and I never noticed. I thought I was the one suffering, but he’s been carrying this burden in silence, taking it all on himself.

“You’re right. I’ve been pushing you away.” The words fall from my lips like poison, sharp and bitter. I had no idea how selfish I was being. I didn’t see it. All this time, I blamed him, not understanding that his need to protect me wasn’t about control—it was about healing. It was the only way he knew how to breathe.

“I’m not blaming you, Sophia,” he says like he can hear my thoughts. “Please, don’t blame yourself. I’m telling you this because we need to face this together. We can’t keep living like this.” His eyes pierce mine, and I can’t look away. “You’re my everything, Sophia. I love you more than anything, more than my own life, and that will never change. You’re my first instinct to protect. My first priority, my first choice.” He exhales shakily, and his voice drops, almost a whisper. “You knew from the start how selfish I am. I never lied about that.”

The word ‘selfish’ is far too small for what he’s really saying. Selfish doesn’t capture the depths of the pain he’s living with.

“You’ve made it clear you don’t want me to put you first,” he continues, his voice growing cold and guarded, but there’s something raw underneath it. “But you don’t get a fucking choice in that. I don’t get a choice. I can’t keep letting you make decisions for me when it comes to my heart.” He pauses, his chest rising and falling with every breath, and the silence presses in between us like a suffocating force. His gaze hardens, but then he lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I know. It sounds cheesy as hell, but it’s true. I’ve never lied about being the villain, Sophia, so stop seeing me as a hero. I’m never going to be. It’s you, always you. You over everyone. The fucking world could burn, and as long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters to me.”

Tears stream down my face uncontrollably. The weight of his words crashes over me, and I can’t breathe.

“You need to accept that I will never stop worrying about you, Sophia. I’ll never stop caring about your safety. It’s not in me to stop.” His footsteps are slow, deliberate, and they echo in the stillness of the room, matching the frantic beats of my heart. When he reaches me, his finger gently lifts my chin, and I look into his eyes, searching for something, anything, that could make me feel okay.

“I can’t promise you I’ll stop, but I can promise this,” he murmurs. “From now on, no more secrets. No more lies. You’ll have everything laid out on the table. No more keeping you in the dark. I’m putting everything on the line for you.” His voice cracks, and he lets out a long breath. “Forgive me, Sophia.”

Is this what I wanted?

Yes.

But is it enough?

No. A promise without actions is just words, and I’ve heard so many empty promises from him. He says he’ll keep me safe, but what if the only way he can do that is by keeping things from me? Is that the price of my safety? I’m not sure I can accept that.

I take a slow, shuddering breath. “No. I don’t forgive you.” The words feel like daggers in my throat, but they’re the truth, no matter how much they hurt.

His face crumples. He looks like I’ve just shattered him, and a part of me wants to take it back, but I can’t. Not yet. Not until I see that he’s truly capable of change.

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