Page 172 of The Ache That Stayed

Alive. Because I’d allowed it.

He looked like hell. Pale beneath the bruising, a bandage visible where his shirt sat too loosely against his chest.

He moved carefully now, like his body still hadn’t forgiven him for surviving. But his eyes—those hadn’t changed.

At first I didn’t respond. The silence stretched between us, taut, holding everything we both understood, because there was nothing simple about what stood between us.

“Does she know you called me back?”

“Not yet,” I said.

He didn’t move. Just stood there like he already knew what it meant. I let the silence stretch a second longer. Not to intimidate him, but to make sure he understood.

Then—

“You don’t come back into my house like nothing’s changed,” I said.

His gaze didn’t waver. I straightened slightly.

“If you stay,” I continued, my voice dropping just slightly, “you do it on my terms.”

His expression didn’t shift much. But I saw the tension leave him.

“Which are?” he asked lazily.

I held his gaze. Steady. Unmoving.

“You don’t take from me,” I warned. “And you don’t make her choose.”

I held his gaze a second longer.

“You also don’t confuse being loved with being chosen.”

Silence. Then a slow, understanding nod.

“Fair,” he said.

The sound of bare feet interrupted us.

“Marci, I really need that cof—”

She stopped. For a moment, everything stilled. She stood in the doorway, frozen. Wearing my shirt, the fabric falling mid-thigh, loose against her body, swallowing her whole in a way that nearly made me drag her back upstairs. Her hair was tied into a messy bun, unruly strands falling loose around her face.

And her skin—still warm, still flushed—carrying the warmth of the night before. She looked like she belonged here.

And then she saw him. Her lips parted soundlessly, her entire body going still before the breath left her in a sharp, broken exhale. For a second she didn’t move, just stood there staring at him like she had seen a ghost.

“You… you’re alive.” Her voice broke on the last word, tears welling in her eyes.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled.

“You asked me to stay.”

She looked at me, not for permission, but confirmation. I gave her a small nod. That was all it took. She moved fast. Crossing the distance between them and collided into him.

“Easy there, little Volpi,” he murmured.

She didn’t listen. She buried her face into his chest and held on.