Page 187 of Micah

Micah's voice stays low.

“But I saw it.”

I hug my arms around myself.

“I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. Patrick let me down so many times over the years, in so many ways,” I whisper and I feel them now, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“You don't have to figure that out today.”

Micah wipes my tears away and cups my face between his big hands. His gaze never leaves mine.

“You can be angry. You can be relieved. You can love your brother and still hate what he's done.”

He pauses.

“All those things can be true at the same time.”

No one has ever said anything quite like that to me before.

And somehow...

Hearing it from Micah makes me feel like maybe I'm allowed to stop carrying everyone else's burdens for just a little while.

I let out a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?”

I nod.

“Yeah, but what about the bar?”

The words tumble out before I can stop them.

“I still have to get in there and fix what those men broke. I have to call the staff. They'll be wondering where I am.”

Micah reaches up and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead.

It's so unexpected—and so very him—that my frantic thoughts stumble to a halt.

“Princess.”

Just my nickname.

Quiet.

Steady.

Enough to make me look at him instead of the dozen disasters racing through my head.

“I already took care of it.”

I blink.

“What?”

“I sent a cleanup crew to The Watering Hole.”

“You did what?”