Not with the weight of his presence still pressing into me, inside me, beneath my ribs, wrapping around my lungs like something dangerous and consuming.
If I move, if I let go—even for a moment—I will lose this.
I will lose him.
I lay beside him, my body still thrumming, my pulse still echoing his name. It feels foreign on my tongue, like a secret I was never meant to say aloud. Like something I have been holding inside my chest for far too long. And now, after this—after us—I can’t keep it in anymore.
I can’t lie.
We both feel it.
I turn to face him.
His emerald eyes flicker open, half-lidded and unreadable, but I see the weight behind them. The same war that lingers inside of me. I take a breath, and it feels like the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
My hands tremble as I reach for him, as I brush my palm against his bare chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart beneath my fingers.
“Rylan,” I whisper.
His eyes darken, his body going impossibly still.
I swallow.
I give him the truth.
“I’ve always known you,” I breathe.
His brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt.
Doesn’t move.
So I keep going.
“I knew your name before I ever met you,” I say, my voice shaking. “I knew your face, even when you didn’t know mine.”
A beat of silence.
Then—his fingers tighten around the sheets.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
His jaw tenses. “How?”
I take another breath, but it does nothing to steady me.
I brush my forehead against his, eyes fluttering shut, forcing myself to say the words I have buried for too long.
“I was sent to find you,” I whisper. “I was meant to help you reclaim what was stolen from you. The wealth, the name, the truth. But that’s not why I stayed.”
I pull back just enough to look at him, to let him see the naked, raw honesty in my eyes.
“I stayed because I love you.”
The words hang between us.
Like a dagger suspended mid-air, waiting to fall and carve something irreparable between our ribs.