Page 112 of Second Sin

I reach up, gentle, steady, my fingers brushing the edge of his cheek.

He flinches. Not from me.

Just from the contact.

The tenderness.

Like kindness is the thing that might finally finish him.

"You were young," I whisper. "And yeah, you made mistakes. But so did she. That pain you’ve been carrying—it’s heavy, and it’s real. But it’s not who you are now."

He shakes his head, voice barely audible. "You don’t know that."

"I do."

I don’t back down. Don’t let the silence fill in the space he’s trying to retreat into.

"You’re a good man, Sebastian."

He laughs—sharp, bitter. Like the words physically hurt.

"How can you say that?" His voice cracks wide open. "After everything I told you—how can you even look at me?"

"Because I know you."

A beat. I move closer, pressing my palm gently to his chest.

"You think your past makes you unworthy of love?" I say, soft but steady. "It doesn’t. It makes you human."

His breath shudders. And the break comes slow. Quiet.

He folds forward. And I hold him.

Arms around his back. His face buried in my neck. My hands in his hair.

"You need to forgive yourself," I murmur, voice thick. "It’s time to let go of the guilt."

I pause, my fingers still threaded in his hair. He’s shaking, but he’s holding on.

"You don’t have to forget it. You don’t have to make it okay."

A breath.

"But you have to stop letting it define you."

He doesn’t speak.

But he doesn’t pull away either.

And maybe that’s enough.

For now.

CHAPTER 43

The apartment’s quiet when I step out of the shower. No music. No voices. Just the thud of my own heart in my ears, loud in the silence.

I towel off, dress in clean sweats and a T-shirt. My skin feels raw. Like everything’s been stripped away, nerves exposed and waiting to be burned.

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