Page 77 of Bound By Crimson
Lyric.
Simple. Bold. Hers.
Her throat tightened. She blinked, once, twice, but the tears came anyway.
She didn’t wipe them.
They were happy tears. Disbelieving tears.
I did this.
Not alone. She knew that.
She couldn’t have done it without Kai—his power, his money.
But it was her blood, sweat, and tears that pulled it all together. Showing up every day, even when she doubted herself.
Her hands. Her Vision. Her fight.
She cried quietly for a few minutes, then exhaled hard, like she was emptying her lungs for the first time all day.
When she stepped outside, Callie was waiting by the car with Thomas.
“All good?” Callie asked.
Lyric smiled through damp lashes. “Better than good.”
---
The ride home was quiet. Thomas didn’t speak unless spoken to.
Lyric rested her head against the window, watching the city smear past in gold and glass.
She felt worn out—in the best way. Her body ached, her feet were sore, her shoulders stiff—but her chest buzzed.
Like she’d done something important. Like she’d stepped into her skin for the first time in years.
When they pulled up to the penthouse, she thanked Thomas and hurried inside.
“Kai?” she called out, kicking off her shoes.
No answer.
But a light was on down the hall.
She found him in the bedroom—stretched out across the bed, one arm slung over the pillows.
Still wearing his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, shoes kicked off at the side of the bed.
Asleep.
Her heart squeezed.
She wanted to wake him.
To crawl into his arms and tell him everything.
Instead, she set her bag down quietly and slipped under the covers beside him, resting her hand lightly against his back.
