Her eyes flutter closed as she leans into the contact, and for a moment, we just exist in this space together. When she opens her eyes, they're soft but guarded. "It's not that simple, though." She presses gently against my chest, not to push me away but to create just enough space to think clearly. "I want to trust this. Trust us again. But I'm scared."
Her hands fist softly in my shirt, torn between pulling me closer and protecting herself. "I love you," she whispers, the words both a gift and a confession. "I love you so much it scares me sometimes." She takes a shaky breath. "You have this power over me, London. When you hurt, I hurt. When you're gone, I'm lost. And I can't...I can't be that vulnerable and broken when I need to be strong. I need to be strong for our baby."
The revelation hangs in the air between us, tender and enormous.
"You love me the same way I love you," I say softly, my thumb tracing her cheek. "That's not something to be afraid of."
"But you left before," she says, and there's no accusation in it, just hurt that hasn't fully healed. "When things got complicated, you chose to go."
"I was eighteen and terrified," I admit, my voice thick with regret. "I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting you and your pretty heart. But Laney, leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. I've regretted it every single day since."
I can see her wavering, love and caution warring in her beautiful eyes. She wants to believe me, wants to fall back into us, but she's protecting her heart.
"And at the ranch," she continues softly, "you pushed me away again. You hurt me because you thought it was easier than fighting through the hard parts together."
Her words aren't angry. They're just achingly honest, and somehow, that makes them cut deeper. "I know," I say, my hands tightening on her waist. "I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I'm here now, trying to fix what I broke. I want to fight for us, with you, not against you."
She bites her lower lip, a gesture I know means she's trying not to cry. "How do I know you won't run again when things get hard? How do I trust that you'll stay when being here gets difficult?"
"Because I came after you," I say desperately. "Before I even knew about the baby, the second you turned away from me at the ranch, I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. I couldn't let you go—not again. I ran after you. I would have begged you to forgive me right then and there if Fish hadn't stopped me?—"
"Wait." Her brow furrows as she attempts to process my words. "You came after me? I heard the fighting in the hallway and assumed Fish went after you. I didn't realize you were the one who was running."
"Does it matter?" I ask as I study her face.
Her eyes hold mine, and in their piercing gaze, I can see healing. She didn't know until this moment that I fought for her—for us. I hurt her, but I was ready to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. Ready to take it all back.
"It matters," she says, her voice breaking at the end.
"Laney, I know I messed up, but what I've found at the core of it all is fear. I spent years living in fear. Fear I was unlovable because my mother walked out on me and my dad. Fear my dad regretted me, believing I was the reason my mom left. Fear of never being good enough because, at every turn, I felt like I was five steps too short. Fear of falling for a girl at eleven years old..." My voice grows thick with emotion as I continue. "Freshman year, I got it wrong when I caught you TPing my house. Sophomore year, I got it wrong when I kissed you and disappeared. Senior year, I got it wrong again when I stole your crime. But at the root, all my actions were motivated by fear. I was scared of hurting what I cared about most."
I pause, my hands trembling slightly against her waist. "You. I was scared of hurting you."
But standing here now, holding her, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing against my chest, something shifts inside me. The fear that's lived in my bones for so long…it's still there, but it's not driving me anymore. I'm not that scared eighteen-year-old boy who ran because he thought love meant inevitable loss. I'm not the man who pushed her away at the ranch because facing the mess felt impossible.
I'm tired of being afraid, tired of letting fear make my decisions for me. Because the truth is, losing her—really losing her—isthe only thing that truly terrifies me. And I almost did that by trying so hard to protect us both from getting hurt.
"But I'm not scared anymore, Laney," I whisper, my voice stronger now, more certain. "Not of this. Not of us. The only thing that scares me now is living without you."
Her eyes start to glaze over with unshed tears, and I watch as her carefully constructed walls finally begin to crumble. The sight of her trying so hard not to cry, of all that love and pain shimmering in her eyes, breaks something open inside me.
I can't stand the distance anymore.
In one swift movement, I pull her fully into my arms, crushing her against my chest like I can somehow absorb all her hurt and fear into myself. She melts into me instantly, her arms winding around my neck as a soft sob escapes her lips. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in, holding her like she might disappear if I let go.
"I love you," I murmur into her ear, the words desperate and reverent. "I love you so much."
When she pulls back to look at me, her cheeks are wet with tears, but there's something different in her eyes now…hope…or maybe surrender. Before I can second-guess myself, before either of us can overthink this moment, I cup her face in my hands and kiss her.
It's deep and desperate, full of all the longing and love we've been holding back. She kisses me back with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in my hair, and for the first time in days, everything feels right again. Like we're finally home. "Stay with me tonight." I break our kiss, and her eyes fill with apology. "I don't mean it like that. I mean, just stay with me."
"I want to…" Her fingers run through the hair at the base of my neck. "But I need to take it slow, and that means sleeping in my own bed tonight."
I growl out my frustration before kissing the tip of her nose. "What about tomorrow?"
"I don't know. I suppose I'll take it under consideration," shesays teasingly, and my heart soars. That's the sound of my girl coming back to me. Her soft lips press against mine, and I melt. God, I've missed us. Her hands brush down my chest before she pulls away and slowly walks backward toward the door. "An egg-and-cheese sandwich on a bagel with avocado sounds excellent. If someone were to leave that on my windowsill, it might help sway the judge."
I press my teeth into my lower lip hard and watch her flushed cheeks walk away from me with a playful glint in her eye. "It'll be there," I say as she reaches for the doorknob. "Oh, and heartbreaker…" Her eyes flick up to mine when I use her nickname. "Open your curtains tonight so I can sleep."
