Page 161 of The Ache That Stayed
“Amore…”
His hand came up, firmer this time, steadying my face like he needed me to understand.
“Only death could take me from you,” he murmured.
His thumb brushed beneath my eye again.
“And even then… I wouldn’t go quietly.”
My breath broke.
“We fight. We kiss. We make up. But I’m not leaving,” he added.
Silence followed. And somehow the lack of anger hurt more than rage would have.
“I hurt you,” I choked.
The truth of it felt unavoidable, sitting between us like a heavy iron curtain. He didn’t answer immediately. Then—
“Yes.”
I flinched as the word landed. My pulse thudded in my ears.
This was where my life came crumbling down. This is what I walked into.
“I never meant for it to—” I shook my head slightly. “I’ll understand if you hate me.”
There it was. The thing I had been holding back.
“I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with me.”
He stepped closer and put his forehead against mine.
“I could never hate you.”
Tears blurred my vision. I shook my head immediately, stepping back half a step.
“You don’t know that,” I said quickly. “You don’t know what this makes me—”
“I do.”
That stopped me.
“Why?” I whispered.
It was the only question that mattered. He stepped closer then, closing the space I hadn’t been able to. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.
“Because I know one thing,” he said, his voice low, carrying a weight that settled deep. “You’re still mine. Even now.”
The words didn’t feel like possession. They felt like certainty. As though he had already decided long before this moment. My eyes closed for a second, the weight of them pressing into me. Tears now fell freely down my cheek, soaking his hand.
I had been hiding behind a version of myself I’d shown to the world. Softer. Kinder. Less dangerous. Loving people through edited versions of myself. But the cruellest thing I’d ever done was lie about who I actually am.
To myself. To the people who love me.
To him.
“I don’t deserve you,” I said, the truth slipping out before I could stop it.
