My throat tightened as uncertainty washed over .
"I... I’m not sure," I said quietly.
The words felt small, but they were honest.
Lewis didn’t rush . His fingers brushed my cheek, light as if he were afraid to startle . His eyes stayed on my face, steady, watching every flicker of doubt.
"Would it upset you," he asked softly, "if we had crossed that line?"
There was hesitation in his voice.
That was when I realized sothing important.
He wasn’t testing .
He was afraid.
Afraid I would resent him. Afraid I would feel taken instead of chosen.
"It would," I admitted.
The mont the answer left my mouth, the warmth in his eyes dimd. Regret settled over his features, quiet and heavy.
"I’m sorry," he said at once. "I didn’t an to "
I lifted my hand and placed it gently over his lips.
"Listen to ," I said. "When I say I’d feel upset, it’s not because of you."
He went still, waiting.
"It’s because I don’t feel like I truly belong yet," I continued, my voice unsteady. "Not fully. Not the way I want to."
He t my eyes, patient, giving space to finish.
I took a breath.
"The truth is... Julian and I were together for years. But the only ti we ever crossed that line was after too much drinking. The next morning, I couldn’t even rember how it happened."
Sha crept into my chest, but I pushed through it.
"It’s not about last night," I said. "It’s about how, once again, I let myself disappear into a blur. That kind of closeness should be shared when both people are awake, present, choosing each other. I want to feel it. To rember it."
For a mont, Lewis just looked at .
Then he smiled.
Not triumphant. Not relieved.
Gentle.
He pulled into his arms and held , steady and warm.
"Nothing happened," he said simply.
I stiffened and looked up at him.
He leaned closer, his voice low and sure. "That kind of bond matters too much to be taken. I made a promise to myself long ago. I would wait until you gave it freely."
Warmth spread through my chest, slow and deep.
"Lewis," I whispered, "you’re a good man."
"I still prefer it when you call Carl," he said softly.
His hand cupped my cheek, tender. "After all, I’m the one who t you first."
Sothing shifted.
Ti felt like it folded in on itself, and mories I hadn’t touched in years stirred awake.
From the ti I was eight, Julian had made it clear I wasn’t allowed near Lewis. Whenever I crossed paths with him, his distant gaze would freeze in place. I would nod quickly and run off, pretending I didn’t care.
But I did.
When I was ten, I climbed a peach tree, reckless as always. I slipped, branches shaking, petals raining down like snow.
I never hit the ground.
Strong arms caught .
A soft groan escaped him as he took the impact instead.
"Carl, are you hurt?" I blurted out, panic flooding .
He reached for my hand, his grip warm and steady. A faint smile curved his lips.
"So," he said, "you didn’t forget after all."
Now, years later, that sa smile was still there. Older. Wiser. But just as kind.
I sighed softly. "If Julian hadn’t kept us apart... would we have found each other sooner?"
He pulled closer, his voice gentle but firm.
"I’m the lucky one," he said. "I should be grateful that what I thought I lost was returned to ."
We held each other, hearts beating in quiet rhythm.
For the first ti since my past life ended in tragedy, I didn’t feel anger toward fate.
Only gratitude.
...
For a long ti, I couldn’t understand it.
Why was the one who ended my life allowed to walk free, while gentle people were always taken too soon? It felt cruel. Unfair. Like the world had made a mistake.
But now, standing here, I finally saw it.
Everything had a reason.
Maybe fate had been kinder to Lewis than I ever realized. Maybe my second chance wasn’t ant for revenge or regret but for love. For saying the words I never had the courage to say before.
After drinking, Lewis was nothing like Julian.
There was no pressure. No taking. No sense of being cornered.
I stayed.
I didn’t want to leave.
It wasn’t until I was washing up that I noticed them faint marks scattered along my skin. Soft. Almost faded.
Lewis wasn’t young. And he had never crossed that line with anyone before.
It must have taken everything in him to stop.
My face burned as I stared at my reflection. Even though my mory failed , the thought of his calm expression lowered over , his attention slow and deliberate, made my heart race.
So embarrassing.
When I finally stepped out, he was already dressed, seated near the window. The morning light softened his features, making his gaze look almost gentle.
"Co here, Darling," he said.
The nickna used to make cringe. If it ca from anyone else, I would’ve rolled my eyes or worse.
But from Lewis?
His voice was low, smooth, carrying warmth that settled deep in my chest. His face looked unreal, like sothing drawn instead of born.
I used to think I didn’t care about looks.
Now I knew better.
Julian had narrowed my world without noticing. I’d been taught to look only at him, to asure everything by his approval. I never let myself see anyone else clearly.
But Lewis saw .
And because he did, I began to see myself differently too.
"What?" I asked when he studied quietly.
He pulled closer without effort, settling against him. His arms wrapped around my waist, secure but gentle. He leaned in, his breath warm near my ear.
"I won’t disappoint you," he murmured.
I blinked. "What do you an?"
"Our first night together," he said softly, steady as a vow, "will be sothing you’ll rember clearly. Sothing you choose. You can look forward to it."
Heat rushed to my face.
I bit my lip, unsure how to respond.
"Okay," I whispered at last.
Sothing between us shifted.
After last night, I no longer pulled away from his touch. And now, instead of fear, I felt anticipation. A quiet excitent that scared more than desire ever had.
Then his expression changed.
"Elena," he said, his tone sharpening just slightly, "I just got word from the station. The report on Nolan is out."
The warmth drained from the room.
"What’s wrong?" I asked.
"There were no signs of alcohol or drugs," he said carefully. "He was clear-headed. Fully alert."
My chest tightened. "Then what happened?"
"The car was tampered with," he replied. "And the road where it crashed had been treated to be dangerously slick. The vehicle broke through the guardrail."
My breath caught.
"What about Camilla?" I asked urgently. "That was her car. She asked Nolan to go there. This can’t be a coincidence."
Lewis’s jaw tightened.
"It isn’t."
And just like that, the quiet safety I’d begun to feel cracked open reminding that pack shadows don’t disappear simply because love finally finds its way ho.
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