Page 98 of Unleashed

“You can’t say the same. Not then. You knew you were crossing a line, and you stepped over it anyway.”

The words gutted me. Savage and deserved.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, hot and silent at first. Then came the full weight of them. Months of guilt crashing into the present. My chest cracked open. My shoulders shook.

He didn’t flinch. Just pulled me forward. Held me.

I folded into his arms, buried my face in the soft cotton stretched across his chest. The fabric soaked up my tears, and I couldn’t stop the way I broke apart there—sobbing, gasping, every breath splintering against the wall of regret inside me.

His chin came to rest on top of my head.

“You’ve got your spine now,” he murmured, voice low, rough with emotion he hadn’t let show until now. “And I don’t think you’ll let go of it again.”

I trembled against him, full-body, down to the soles of my feet. My words scraped their way up from someplace buried deep. “Never,” I whispered, barely audible. Then louder, with my lips against his shirt. “Never again.”

I lifted my face, eyes burning, breath shaking. “I want to be the woman you believe in. The one who earns back your respect. Your trust. There’s nothing—” I choked on the rest. Sucked in air. Forced it out. “Nothing in this world could make me choose the wrong path again. Not even if it cost me everything.”

His eyes didn’t soften. They steadied.

“I believe you.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“I made a decision when I signed on with Hoss,” he said slowly, as though just coming to the realization. “I knew from Puppy that you’d moved here. Now I know why.”

My pulse kicked up. “I needed to start over.”

“There’s that. But you picked the one place I mentioned.”

The truth, subconscious or unacknowledged or buried beneath a whole lot of hope, pushed up. “I didn’t know if you’d end up here. I didn’t purposely plan it this way. When Adele mentioned her mother lived in Virginia, it seemed too close, too lucky. It would be my little piece of you.” I swallowed, throat tight. “And I hoped. Really hoped that you’d come.”

His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist again—barely a touch, but enough to keep me grounded.

“I knew,” he said. “Before I ever signed with Hoss. Before I unpacked a single box. I knew you were here.”

I laughed, too sharp and breathless to be smooth. “Yeah, well. The night I found out you were here? Partnered up and staying? I had a full-blown panic attack in the produce aisle of the Piggly Wiggly. It suddenly hit me that I’d have to see you every time I left the house. See the future Mrs. Vignier on your arm, living your best post-Lily life.” I wiped my cheek. “And then I realized I’d forced myself into your life, just by being here.”

His brows lifted, a quiet smile tugging at his mouth. “Piggly Wiggly, huh?”

I gave him a watery smile. “What can I say? Catastrophic thinking really thrives under fluorescent lighting.”

That earned me the tiniest huff of laughter.

He stepped closer.

“This wasn’t you forcing anything, Lily.” His voice softened, settling deep. “This was you leaving the door cracked open. And me choosing to walk through it.”

Jack studied me a moment longer, then leaned in.

He kissed me without hesitation, like the decision had already been made. His lips moved against mine—gentle, grounded. Nothing flashy. Nothing loud. Just a kind of quiet promise that sank bone deep.

My breath caught. I kissed him back—not with urgency, but with something heavier. A kind of aching gratitude. A promise wrapped in apology.

When he pulled away, he stayed close. His forehead pressed gently against mine, and his fingers didn’t let go of mine.

Above us, Bright chirped again. Sharp and perfectly timed.

The same sound he used to make when we talked too long and laughed too loud in my apartment, smoke curling from the pan while I ruined another grilled cheese. That week where everything felt possible. That breath of heaven before I burned it all down.

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