She shifts, wincing. “You haven't been by yet.”
 
 “I…” My voice breaks. I clear my throat before trying again. “I wanted you to rest.”
 
 Tension pools between us. Stepping inside, I close the door, and the room shrinks until there's only the two of us and the weight of what I did last night.
 
 “Ivy…” My hands shake again. “There's something I need to tell you.”
 
 She swallows hard, as if her hearts already breaking before even hearing my words.
 
 Whatever comes next, I'll take it. If she hates me, I'll deserve it. But I can't keep this buried any longer. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I inhale and let the confession start.
 
 “I crossed a line last night,” I rasp, eyes fixed on the edge of the blanket. “I... I…”
 
 Fuck!Say it, you coward!Say the thing that's been rotting in your chest all damn day.
 
 “I touched you while you were sleeping.”
 
 I wait for the silence to split open. For her to recoil, to flinch away like I deserve. But she doesn’t react right away.
 
 “I wasn’t thinking straight,” I whisper, voice raw. “I just… I came back from patrol, and you were right there… you were soft and warm and breathing so quiet and—fuck, Ivy.” Dropping my head into my hands, shame washes through me.
 
 Her breath stutters and she swallows hard, but I can’t bring myself to look her in the eyes as I continue.
 
 “I touched you… between your legs. I fingered you, licked you while you slept...” My chest burns. “I knew you were asleep. I told myself I'd stop but I didn't. Before I knew it, I had my cock out and I almost—” the words lodge in my throat but I force them out like tearing glass from my own flesh, “I almost fucked you without waking you up.”
 
 My stomach turns, haunted by the way I’d justified my actions in the moment. And the silence that follows is unbearable. My ears ring with it. My shame fills every crack in the room.
 
 Why isn’t she saying anything?
 
 “I couldn't look at you this morning,” I admit, voice fraying at the edges. “I thought if I avoided you, maybe you'd never know. Maybe I could pretend I wasn't the kind of man who do that to someone he—” I cut myself off.
 
 You can't say that. Can't say ‘love’.Not after what you just admitted to.
 
 “Then today,” I breathe, swallowing the knot in my throat. “While I was out with Phoenix, I thought, ‘what if that was the last time I touched you’? What if you died thinking I didn't care? Thinking I didn't want you?” I force my gaze up. “Say it. Tell me I’m disgusting.”
 
 Her expression doesn't twist into disgust like I feared. No flinching or horror. Just this stunned look, like I caught her off guard.
 
 Ivy blinks a few times and looks down at the edge of the blanket as her fingers fiddle with it nervously.
 
 I’ve lost her. This is it. She’s gonna be terrified of me now. A chasm stretches between us already and I can feel my heart plummeting into the divide.
 
 Sky-blue eyes search mine and something gentle flickers in them. “I'm upset,” she says, voice quiet but firm. “But not for thereason you think.”
 
 That stuns me. “What…?”
 
 “I'm upset,” she continues, “because it would’ve been our first time… and I was asleep. You would’ve taken the moment from me. Had it all to yourself, while I miss out.”
 
 My brain misfires. “Miss out? Ivy. You should be angrier about this.”
 
 “I'm furious,” she spits.
 
 I flinch, ready for her to rip into me, knowing I’d deserve every hateful thing she says. She can slap me, punch me. Whatever she wants. I’ll sit here and take it.
 
 Ivy scoots closer, wincing but refusing to stop. A shaky fingertip trails the blood crusted on my knuckles. “Furious you wasted an entire day hating yourself… instead of touching me again. With my eyes open this time.”
 
 The room tilts. “I… Ivy,” I swallow, her scent washing over my senses and clouding my thoughts. “I ruined whatever we had… and after Myles, after Phoenix…”
 
 “Is that why you avoided me all day? You’re jealous?”