Page 65 of The Mercenary's Hidden Heir
We sit there.
No touching.
No false promises.
Just breathing.
Together.
It feels like we’re standing in the ashes of everything we lost.
And maybe, we’ve got enough fight left to build something new.
We sit there in the dim, broken room, breathing the same air, letting the silence settle around us like a new kind of armor.
Different from the sharp-edged silence we used to wear.
This one’s softer.
Warmer.
Hopeful, maybe.
Kelli shifts first, brushing her hair back from her face in a nervous little motion I remember all too well.
She leans in without really meaning to, her knee bumping mine.
She freezes.
I don’t move.
Don’t dare.
I watch her—steady, patient—as she studies me like she’s trying to find the pieces of the man she used to know.
Slowly, like the tide pulling at the sand, she reaches out.
Her fingers brush the side of my face—soft, hesitant.
I close my eyes.
Let it happen.
Let her touch me.
Because gods know I don’t deserve it.
But I’ll take it.
I’ll take anything she’s willing to give.
I open my eyes again.
Find her closer now.
Her breath warm against my mouth.
Her gaze flicks down.
