Page 143 of Stolen Harmony
I held onto him, still shaking a little, still afraid this was all just a fever dream, some hallucination I’d conjured out of too many sleepless nights and too much wanting. The silence between us was soft—heavy with exhaustion, but also something gentler. Relief. A peace I’d forgotten how to hold.
But it didn’t last. The weight of what I’d been carrying, what I’d done, pressed in on me. I felt it—the guilt, the ache, the ghost of shame that lingered even after the pleasure faded. I knew I had to say it. Not just for him, but for me, too.
“Elias?” My voice sounded uncertain, younger than I meant it to.
He pulled back, just enough to see my face in the low light. “What is it, sweetheart?”
I looked away, throat tight. “I need to tell you something. About… about Victor.”
He was silent for a long moment, his hand running absently up and down my spine, gentle and steady, as if grounding me in the present. “Go ahead.”
I took a shaky breath, heart thundering. “I hooked up with him. I was drunk and lonely and it was just a hookup.”
Elias’s eyes closed, a flicker of pain crossing his features, but when he looked at me again there was no accusation. Just the ache of understanding.
“I know,” he said softly.
I blinked. “You?—?”
He nodded, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “He told me. Not all the details. Just enough to let me know he’d been with you. He wanted me to hear it. He wanted me to feel it. I think… he wanted to punish us both.”
I couldn’t breathe for a second. The shame burned hot in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know it’s fucked up, and I?—”
He stopped me, thumb gentle on my cheek. “Rowan. You don’t owe me an apology for what you did after I walked out on you. I have no right. You were free to do whatever you needed. And before—before we were anything, before there were rules, before there were promises—I can’t blame you for that. I won’t.”
“But it still hurts,” I said, my voice small.
He nodded, gaze heavy with honesty. “Yeah. It hurts. The idea of you with him. With anyone. But especially him. But I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with him. With myself, mostly. For giving him the space to get between us, for letting my fear push you away.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I just wanted to feel wanted. Needed. Like I still existed.”
“I know that feeling.” Elias drew me close, tucking my head beneath his chin. “You’re not alone in it. We both fucked up. But we’re here now. No more running. No more using other people to hurt ourselves.”
I let out a shaky laugh, half tears, half relief. “I don’t want anyone else. Not anymore. Not after this. Not after you.”
His arms tightened, fiercely protective. “No more. For either of us. Just us. We start over, yeah?”
“Yeah.” The word felt like forgiveness. Like hope.
For a while we just lay there, my head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat. The city sounds bled in through the window—car horns, distant music, a siren fading into the night. It felt like we were both still suspended, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the world to realize what we’d built and tear it apart again.
After a while, I asked, “What happens now? Are you… are you going back to Harbor’s End?”
He shook his head. “No. Not yet. I have to handle some things here, in the city. And I’m not letting you out of my sight, not until I’m sure we’re okay. I’m working on something. Something that’ll… hopefully let us breathe for once. Let us build something real, without secrets or threats hanging over our heads.”
I propped myself up on my elbow, studying his face. “What are you planning?”
He smiled, that secret, wry smile that made my heart skip. “Let’s just say I have a few favors to call in. A few things to put right. Victor doesn’t get to control us anymore. He doesn’t get to use what happened to keep us apart. I’m going to make sure of it.”
“Is it dangerous?”
His jaw tightened, a shadow flickering in his eyes. “Not more than I can handle. And not without backup. I promise you, I’m not doing anything stupid. I just… I want us to have a real chance, Rowan. Not something built on fear and hiding.”
I reached up, stroking my thumb along his cheekbone. “You’re serious.”
He caught my wrist, turned his head to press a kiss to my palm. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. I want you. I want us. I’m willing to fight for it now. No more letting fear win. No more letting the past dictate what happens next.”
My chest ached with wanting, with hope I wasn’t sure Ideserved. “I don’t want to lose you again,” I admitted. “Not to Victor. Not to your guilt. Not to anything.”
