Page 6 of Swallow

Ash didn’t move. He didn’t react. He just waited. He just stared at me, waiting for me to feel comfortable—or angry enough—to tell him what was truly wrong.

I blinked several times, my unshed tears finally escaping and rolling down my cheeks. I aggressively wiped them away. “I used to be strong,” I snapped, my voice shaking. “I used to have a life. Arealone. I used to be someone who mattered.” My breaths came out short, uneven. “And then, little by little,hetook that away from me.Hemade me believe I was nothing. That I was worthless. That I deserved nothing except whathegave me. And whenhehad me so broken and beaten down that I believed it.”

Ash stayed silent, listening, giving me the time and airspace to tell my story the way I wanted to. I knew if I told him I wasn’t ready to talk about it, he would have accepted my decision.

My chest ached, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I knew if I didn’t leave, I wouldn’t survive. So I left in the middle of the night with nothing but what I could carry.” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep going. “And now I’m here—with you—and I’m trying to figure out who I am again.”

Silence filled the space between us, thick and suffocating.

I turned away, shaking my head, wiping away the remnants of my tears. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

Ash came closer, but he didn't touch me. He just stood right beside me, solid and unmoving, his presence alone sucking the air from my lungs.

I braced myself for him to say something—anything. I expected him to say I was weak or broken or foolish. That’s what I was used to. That’s what I expected.

Instead, Ash surprised me.

He reached out, rested his palm on my shoulder with the gentlest touch I’d ever felt, and turned me around so we faced each other. I didn’t recoil. Didn’t flinch. His touch was… comforting.

He stared into my eyes, this bareness in his own so prominent that it was startling to see a man—especially one so big and gruff—looking so… vulnerable.

“You’re safe,” he told me once again, his voice strained. And I couldn't react to his words or how he said them, because a second later, he pulled me into his arms.

I stiffened, but not because I didn't like his touch. In fact, it was the opposite. It surprised me, because it feltperfectandright, and when the shock finally dissipated, I relaxed and sank against him. “Ash?—”

“Shhh,” he muttered against my hair. “Just for a second, Evie. Let’s just be quiet and take comfort in each other.”

I gave in without argument. I didn’t want to fight him. I didn’t want to push him away or tell him I didn’t need this.

Ididneed it. I realized I needed everything Ash freely gave me.

Because for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt safe. And I felt thatnotbecause I was alone.Notbecause I had built my walls high enough to keep everyone out.

But because, somehow, against all odds, there was someone willing to stand with me and hold me up when I felt like I was about to fall apart. There was someone willing to go to bat for me—a stranger—and make sure I was never hurt again.

Ash’s voice was low and rough, like he was forcing the words out. “I believe things happen for a reason. I know you showed upat my bar because that’s just what was meant to be.” He kissed the crown of my head, and I shuddered when all my earlier anger faded away. “It’s gonna be okay, Evie.”

I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to so badly, and he made it so easy to do just that. I let myself feel the weight of Ash’s arms curling around me and holding me like he was going to make everything okay.

Because it really felt like he could.

5

EVIE

“It’s late. Let’s get you set up for the night so you can rest.”

God, he was so attentive and thoughtful. He pulled back and cupped the sides of my face, and when he leaned down and kissed my forehead, I found that I was disappointed. I realized I wanted his lips on mine.

I swallowed and nodded, pretending like I hadn’t just been watching him, pretending like I didn’t suddenly feel too aware of my own body.

“Come on,” he whispered and pulled back.

I instantly felt chilled, but I followed him toward the hallway that led to the stairs to the room I stayed in. The night had been long, and exhaustion clung to my bones, but something else stirred beneath it, something I couldn’t quite put a name to, because it terrified me.

Ash’s footsteps were heavy but measured. When we reached my door, he opened it for me, stepped aside, and said, “Get some rest.”

He turned to leave, but before I could think, before I could talk myself out of it, I reached out and curled my fingers around his wrist. “Ash.”

---