She’s full-on crying now.
It kills me.
Kills me.
I reach down and hoist her clear up from the tub, holding her tight to my chest, dripping wet, but I don’t care.
I just hold her, my throat tight with emotions I’ve never allowed myself to feel.
“I got you, princess,” I finally manage, voice rough. “You’re not alone. We’re in it together.”
She loops her arms around my neck, forehead pressed to my shoulder, but I can feel the stiffness in her body.
“If she is out there, I will find her,” I promise. “If somebody hurt her, I will kill them. If somebody’s holding her, I will hunt them down.”
She wriggles out of my arms and grabs a towel, wrapping it around herself. The distance between us suddenly feels like a chasm.
“What’s wrong?”
“I appreciate your help with my sister. So much...”
I can hear the ‘but’ loud and clear. I force myself to say it. “But...”
“You couldn’t trust me just a little bit? Hear me out? You had to jump to the worst possible conclusion?”
I run a hand over my face, struggling with unfamiliar vulnerability. “I know.”
“Do you? I thought you knew me at least a little bit.”
“I do know you.”
“You thought I betrayed you, and you wouldn’t hear different. And you fucking kidnapped me and made me think you were gonna kill me!”
“I fucked up, Edie. Not just a little. Kidnapping you, scaring you, refusing to let you explain—it wasn’t just wrong. It was unforgivable.”
“Then why did you do it?”
I suck in a breath, unaccustomed to having to explain myself. “Because I’ve spent my entire life knowing only one way to handle betrayal. Because it was easier to treat you like an enemy than admit... how much power you have over me.”
“I never betrayed you,” she says, her voice cracking. “I was trying to protect my sister while still protecting you.”
“I know that now.”
Her eyes meet mine, guarded but listening.
“In my world, explanations and intentions don’t mean shit. It’s survival—black and white. But with you...” I struggle to find the words. “Nothing’s simple. Things are messy and complicated and sometimes saying stupid things like ‘I’m sorry’ feels harder than robbing Fort Knox. And Iamsorry. And I love this thing we have. I want this thing. I want it. I want you.”
She studies my face. “Is this going to happen every time? Because I can’t live waiting for the next time you decide I’ve crossed some line without letting me explain. I can’t live by your mafia rules.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
She blinks. “So... that’s that?”
It’s not enough, I can see that. “The rules I’ve lived by, the ones that kept me alive—they don’t apply to you. Not anymore. I’ve never apologized to anyone in my life, Edie. I’ve never needed to. But I’m asking for your forgiveness now. Not because I deserve it, but because I can’t lose you.”
“Pretty words,” she challenges, though her eyes soften.
“I mean every one of them. I need you to know you’ll be heard. Always.” I press my lips to her hand. “I can’t promise I’ll nevermake mistakes. But I can promise to remember this moment,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. “Almost losing you because I couldn’t see past my own code killed me.”