Page 97 of The Grand Rise

“Ave was born prematurely, Lance.” I wet my lips, more tears falling as my guilt overwhelms me. “I didn’t listen, and she almost died.”

“Don’t cry,” he mutters, wiping away my tears. “She didn’t die, Scar. She’s here, and she’s perfect.”

I push his hand away. “It was bad. She was in hospital for months. I almost lost…” I shake my head, frowning. “I can’t talk about it tonight, I’m sorry. I know you need to know, but… I can’t… I—”

He takes my face in his hands, forcing my gaze to his. “You don’t apologise. Do you hear me?I’mthe one who’s sorry.” His thumb grazes my temple, his eyes sad. “You never should’ve gone through it alone. I should’ve been here. I had a choice, and I made the wrong one. I cut you off. I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting that.”

I take a deep breath and ease back until his hands leave my face.

I huff a laugh, sitting up on the bed, wiping my face myself. “And you said you were the coward. I can’t even talk about this stuff without getting into a complete mess.”

“We all have scars we can’t talk about,” he says, pulling himself up and resting against the headboard. “When you’re ready—if you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen.” He takes the letters back. “We don’t have to read these.”

I put a hand over his, stopping him. “Don’t get rid of them.”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t.”

There was a reason he kept the letters all those years. I can’t help but wonder if him bringing them back here that day was about more than just closure. “I promise I’ll give you everything there is of her. One day soon, I will.”

“I know you will.” He gives me a small smile, opening the drawer and dropping them back inside. “You’ve already given me more than I deserve.”

We stare at one another, so much left unsaid.

“Please sleep in the bed?” he eventually asks.

I drop his gaze and stand from the mattress. “No.”

Grabbing my pillow, I hug it to my chest as I go and turn out the main light. Then, I settle back in the chair, looking up at the moon shining in through the window before letting my tired eyes drift closed.

“Scarlet,” Lance says.

“Hmm,” I mutter back.

“Infinite is a way better word than indefinitely.”

I smile.

Because he’s right.

It is.

TWENTY

Lance

My heart jolts with the thud of a door echoing into my sleep.

My eyes snap open.

I grip the sheets in my fists, quickly ripping them off my legs as I search the room, the door.

I blink and blink again.

Where’s the—

I flinch, clenching my eyes closed as another door booms closed, the sound reverberating through the cells.

I can’t… I can’t get the sheet off my legs.

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