Page 107 of Let Me In

“I didn’t mean for you to,” I add, voice catching. “I—I didn’t mean for anyone to. It’s not usually that bad. Or it is. I don’t know. I just… I’ve lived with it so long, I stopped keeping track.”

The kettle hums.

The silence gets heavier.

I try to fill it.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I know it’s awful. You don’t have to—”

“Emmy.” It’s soft. But it stops me.

He turns around.

And his eyes…

God.

They’re steady. Dark. Devastated.

“You think I came for you out of pity?”

I blink, heart stuttering.

“No, I just—”

“You think I held you, and brought you here, and kissed you like that because I felt bad for you?”

Tears sting at the back of my throat.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” I manage.

“You’re not.”

His voice is low. Rough. But sure.

He crosses to me slowly.

Not looming.

Not fast.

Just steady.

Like he knows I’ll hold still.

He kneels in front of the couch.

Takes my hands.

And says—quiet and firm—

“You’re not broken.”

The words sink into me like sunlight into skin after too long in the dark. My mouth trembles.

“You were never too much. You were never hard to love. You were just too soft for a world that didn’t know how to hold you.”

I break.

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