Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
I can see the strain in his face, the way he’s holding himself back, giving me the space to make my choice. It makes the tears burn hotter behind my eyes, and I bite my lip, trying to steady the tremor in my voice. “I don’t want you to let me go,” I admit, the words barely a whisper, but they feel like they’re cutting through the air between us, through the years of pain and longing. I reach up, my hands trembling as I wrap my arms around him, holding on like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s spinning too fast. “I don’t want to walk away from this. From us.”
Slate’s breath shudders out, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world is finally lifting off them. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him, his chin resting on top of my head as he buries his face in my hair. “Then don’t leave,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice rough, vulnerable in a way that makes my chest ache. “Stay, Emma. Stay and let’s figure this out together. Even if it’s messy. Even if we don’t have all the answers.”
I cling to him, feeling the heat of his body seeping into mine, melting away some of the fear that’s kept me locked up for so long. The world around us is so quiet, so still, like it’s waiting for us to take that first step, to decide which path we’ll choose. And for the first time in years, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m not afraid to take that step with him.
I press my face against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, matching the frantic rhythm of my own. “Okay,” I breathe, the word coming out shaky, but it feels like a promise, one that I’m scared of but ready to try. “Okay, Slate. I’ll stay. For now.”
He pulls back just enough to cup my face, his hands rough but so gentle, like he’s afraid I’ll break if he holds on too tightly. His eyes search mine, tenderness softening the hard lines of his face. There’s something in his expression that I’ve never seen before—something vulnerable, something hopeful. “For now,” he repeats, a wry, almost bittersweet smile curving his lips. “Guess that’ll have to do.”
His smile cracks something open inside me, and for a second, the tension eases, the weight of all our past hurts slipping away in the face of this fragile, new beginning. I manage a shaky smile back, my heart stumbling over itself as he leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead, the warmth of his lips searing into my skin.
The snow falls softly around us, blanketing the world in silence, but inside, everything feels loud—my heartbeat, his breath, the unspoken promise that hangs between us. We’re not fixed, not by a long shot. But maybe, just maybe, we’re starting to find our way.
And this time, I’m ready to see where it leads.
Chapter Ten
Slate
The sun cuts through the last shreds of the morning mist, turning the snow-covered peaks into a blinding sea of white. My breath fogs in the air as we walk, mingling with the chill that bites through my coat, but I barely notice. All I can see is Emma, standing a few feet away, her hair catching the light like it’s made of fire. Her face is pale against the snow, but there’s a resolve in her eyes, a quiet strength that wasn’t there before. Her words from this morning are weighing on me, anxiety chugging through my body like the blood in my veins.
I’ll stay. For Now.
I know I’m at a crossroads. Either I say what’s buried inside me or I lose her all over again. And the thought of that—of watching her walk away a second time—tears at something deep and raw inside me.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Emma.” The words claw out of my chest, rougher than I mean them to be, but I can’t hold them back. I shift my weight, feeling the crunch of snow beneath my boots, the cold seeping into my skin. “Letting someone in again, trusting that it won’t all fall apart... it scares the hell out of me.”
She just watches me, those green eyes of hers wide, glimmering like she’s trying to see right through me. Her lips part like she’s going to say something, but she holds back, letting the silence stretch between us. And her silence—it’s a weight, pressing down on me, making my chest tight. But I push through it, my fists clenching at my sides.
“You left, and I shut everything out. Told myself I was better off alone. That I didn’t need anyone, especially not you.” I force myself to meet her gaze, to let her see the truth in my eyes, even if it cuts. “But then you came back, and... I don’t know how to be that guy anymore. The one who doesn’t care. The one who doesn’t need.”