Page 216 of Let Me In

Not anxious. Not afraid.

Just… aching to be known.

So I speak.

Not loud. Not all at once.

Just—

“I used to write.”

Cal glances down at me, his brow soft.

I keep my eyes on the horizon.

“Nothing big. Just stories. Cheesy romance, mostly. But stuff that lived in my head and needed a place to go.”

He doesn’t interrupt.

I swallow. “I haven’t in a while.”

Still nothing from him.

No praise. No pressure.

Just quiet space.

“I guess… I stopped believing anyone would ever want to read what I had to say. Or that it would matter.”

That’s when his arms move.

He shifts behind me. Gathers me up like I weigh nothing.

Settles me into his lap, one strong arm curled around my back, the other resting warm across my thighs.

“You want to write?” he asks, voice low against my temple.

I nod.

“Then I’ll make sure you have the time and space to do it.”

I blink, startled.

“You don’t—”

“I do,” he says gently. “You deserve that, Emmy.”

And before I can say anything else—

He kisses my forehead.

Not rushed.

A promise settling under my skin. My breath softens, something loosens in my ribs, and for the first time in a long time, I feel held in a way that has nothing to do with arms and everything to do with being seen.

Like he means to hold this too. Not just my body. Not just my safety.

But the part of me that dreams.

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