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He does, and the raw vulnerability in his gaze takes my breath away.

“What she did… that’s on her. Not you. You were just a kid,” I say.

“I should’ve been enough.” His voice cracks, and it’s like a knife to my chest. “I should’ve been enough for her to stay.”

I cup his face with my hands. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough.”

“Then why did she leave?”

“I don’t know.” I brush my thumb across his cheekbone, wiping away the single tear that’s escaped. “But it wasn’t because of you. It wasn’t your fault.”

Connor lifts me into his lap and buries his face in the crook of my neck.

I hold him close, running my fingers through his hair. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

There’s so much fear in that single word. So much doubt.

“I promise.” I press my forehead against his, our noses brushing. “You’re stuck with me, Milton.”

The ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. “I think I can live with that. But why? Why are you so willing to give yourself to someone like me?”

“Why do you doubt me so much?”

“I just want to make sure.”

“Because you’re worth it. And because I care about you. Deeply.”

“Even knowing…”

“Even knowing you stalked me? Yeah, I guess.” I lift a hand to his cheek, gently tracing the line of his jaw. “We all have our flaws and mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them and do better going forward.”

“I need to tell you something later.” His lips curve into a sad smile.

“Later?”

“Yes.”

“Why not now?”

“Later. Trust me.”

“Fine.” I trust you.

Chapter 38

Mary

How is the apartment of a man like Connor decorated? A shadowy cavern filled with screens that glow like the eyes of lurking predators? Like a superhero cave?

The door swings open, and my preconceptions shatter against reality. The space is surprisingly warm—the walls a soft gray, the furniture modern but inviting. Bookshelves line one wall, overflowing with books, their spines facing various directions. It’s… beautiful. The walls are adorned with framed prints of old maps and black-and-white photographs. There’s a large couch in the center of the living room, its material worn smooth from use.

“Wow.” I step further inside. “I didn’t expect this.”

Connor trails behind me. “What did you expect?”

“Something more…” I trail off, searching for the right word, “…Batman-esque?”

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