“I know.”
His voice is rougher now, choked. “I was supposed to kill you.”
The world stops.
“What?” I whisper.
“I was supposed to use you. Then silence you. Clean. Efficient. No ties left behind.”
There’s a ringing in my ears, like the air just got sucked out of the entire moon.
“But I couldn’t,” he goes on. “Couldn’t lay a claw on you. Couldn’t even bring myself to send the signal that marked you for elimination.”
I stare at him, throat tight.
“I disobeyed,” he says simply. “They found out. That’s why I disappeared. That’s why I got dumped on the front lines.”
I sit back, heart hammering. “You… you spared me?”
He nods once.
“That doesn’t make it better,” I murmur, fingers curling around the warm cup now, needing something to anchor me. “You still used me.”
“I know. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just… needed you to know the truth.”
I look away, blinking hard. “Why now?”
He shrugs. “It’s been three years. And when I saw you again…”
His voice trails off.
Silence again. Thick. Electric.
“So what now?” I ask. “You want a second chance?”
He shakes his head. “I want… I don’t know. A real moment. No lies. No mission. Just… us.”
Us.
Gods, that word still does things to me.
“I’m not who I was,” I say, voice cracking. “I’ve got responsibilities. A kid. A life.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still dangerous. You’re still involved in whatever shitstorm the Coalition’s cooking up out here.”
He doesn’t deny it.
“I’m not asking for anything,” he says. “Not today. I just wanted to see you. Talk to you like I should’ve, back then.”
I laugh—dry, sharp. “You think this is what you should’ve done back then?”
He looks down, shame clear in the slump of his shoulders.
Gods help me, I soften.
Because he’s not faking it.