Page 64 of The Mercenary's Hidden Heir

Because what the hell do you say to that?

What words could possibly fix the years I let rot away between us?

So I don't say anything.

I just sit there.

Let her see it.

The regret.

The shame.

The broken parts of me laid bare.

She sighs.

Long and rough.

"You wanna know the worst part?" she asks.

I nod once, jaw so tight it feels like it might snap.

"I hated you," she says. "God, I hated you."

Every word is a dagger.

"And I loved you," she says, softer now. "Even when it would’ve been easier to forget you."

Tears shimmer in her eyes, but she blinks them away.

Feisty to the end.

God, I missed her fire.

Her fight.

Her everything.

She pushes off the wall, crossing the small space between us.

Stands over me, arms loose at her sides, jaw trembling.

"I don’t know if I can forgive you," she says, voice raw.

I nod.

"I don’t expect you to," I say.

Her eyes flicker.

Something inside them shifts.

Breaks open.

She crouches down slowly, sitting cross-legged in front of me.

Close enough I can see every tiny scar, every freckle, every crack life carved into her.

---