Page 72 of Till Orc Do Us Part
“I need space,” I say, voice hoarse.
His shoulders tighten. But he nods. “Then take it.”
I blink hard.
“And know this,” he adds, voice low. “I fight for this place. Not to own it. But because you fight for it. And I will stand beside you—or not at all.”
The ache in my chest deepens.
I turn before he can see the tears threatening to rise.
“I’ll… I’ll be in touch.”
And with that, I step out into the morning sun—cold wind on my skin, the sand beneath my feet unsteady once more.
Not ready.
But not lost.
Not yet.
I shove the door open harder than I mean to.
Cool morning air slams against me, sharp with sea-salt tang. The boards beneath my boots creak with every step. I don’t slow. I don’t look back.
"It was just a fling."
The words loop in my head, tight and hot and useless.
"You knew better. You knew it couldn’t be more."
But gods—my chest aches like I carved a hollow straight through it.
The boardwalk is nearly empty. Early still. Just the gulls wheeling overhead, the hiss of the tide.
Good.
No one to see the way my hands shake.
I force myself to breathe, to move, topretend.
I shouldn’t have stayed last night.
Shouldn’t have kissed him. Let him touch me like I mattered more than the battles I fight every damn day.
I told myself it was one night.
No strings.
No risk.
And now? My heart won’t listen. Won’t let go.
"Because you are afraid. And so am I."
His voice lingers beneath the roar of my thoughts.
Damn him.
