Page 175 of Lady and the Hitman
“I saw what you did,” I said quietly. “The house. The nursery. The sculpture.”
He paused but didn’t turn around. “You didn’t have to come here.”
“I wanted to.”
Silence.
“Ronan,” I said, voice trembling with everything I hadn’t said, “you gave me the truth. And I ran. I was scared, and I pulled away, and I?—”
He turned.
His eyes were darker than I remembered. Or maybe just deeper. “You were right to pull away. I get it.”
“No,” I whispered. “I was wrong to assume I knew what I was looking at.”
He watched me.
I took a step forward. “I thought that woman in the video was dead. I thought she was me. I thought you were showing me what would happen if I let you in.”
“And now?”
“I think she lived. I think maybe you saved her. I think maybe she asked you to do something no one else would.”
He didn’t blink.
I kept going. “I think you’ve done things I’ll never understand. But I also think you’ve loved people in ways I don’t know how to name. And I don’t want to pretend that doesn’t mean something.”
He didn’t speak.
So, I took one more step. “I love you,” I said simply. “I think I’ve loved you since you told me to keep my eyes closed and then treated me like something sacred.”
A long, brutal silence stretched.
Then he said, “Zara. You don’t get to say that now, unless you mean it.”
“I mean it.”
“You don’t get to love a man like me and wish he were different.”
“I don’t,” I said. “I just wish I’d figured it out sooner.”
He moved.
One step. Two. Until he was right in front of me, every inch of him a memory and a promise and a storm I was finally ready to walk into.
His hand came up slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.
“I tried to stay away,” he said, voice low. “I wanted to give you space. Let you decide.”
“I did.”
His thumb paused at my jaw. “Then why are you shaking?”
“Because I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered.
His eyes flicked to mine. “Do what?”
“This. You. Us. A life that doesn’t come with footnotes and escape plans.”
