His eyes drift somewhere beyond me. “Remembering is the action of love,” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself. “Even when life gets overwhelming.”
“Levi?”
His gaze immediately returns to mine. Clearer, this time. But still sadder somehow. “I didn’t hug you, Cece.”
My brows pull together.
What?
A painful smile tugs at his mouth, and he shifts on the couch like he’s bracing for his own words. “I want to tell you none of this will ever happen again. That I’ll never miss something important. That I’ll never screw up like that.” His throat works. “But I already did. More than once.”
“Not anymore,” I reassure him quickly.
He shakes his head. “No. Let me say this.” The rawness in his voice makes my stomach twist. “Fuck, I’m going to say something that might hurt, baby. Butpleasehear me out.”
I nod even as my stomach clenches.
He exhales slowly. “There was a point where I started wondering whether you loved me or not.”
The confession lands between us, making me flinch slightly.
His eyes immediately close. “God, I’m gonna fuck this up.”
“No,” I whisper. “Keep going.”
His fingers tighten around mine. “I… I kept waiting for you to initiate things. Waiting for you to say it first. And when that didn’t happen, I sort of… reduced everything to the clause.” Shame flickers across his face. “I let doubt creep in. I was already so frustrated. With the company. With my parents. With the merger. With everything. And instead of stopping and thinking, I just let myself keep spiraling in that doubt.”
His jaw clenches. “I kept thinking about that clause more than I should have. Because—baby, if I’d stopped for even a second, I would’ve rememberedwhoyou are.”
My breath catches.
“Because I knew you.” His voice cracks. “I knew so many things about you already. Even in the first ten months of our relationship. That when you’re hurt, you get quiet. That even though you never saidI love youfirst, you always—always—said it back.”
My eyes soften.
“I knew that uncertainty makes you overanalyze every possibility until you drive yourself insane. Yet Istillkept you in the dark. I got so caught up in my own doubts that I… I fucked up.”
I sigh. “You didn’t fuck up. You were protecting yourself.”
“What?” he asks, startled.
I cleared my throat, not knowing how to frame the shameful picture I had built in my head. “You were protecting yourself because I never said those words. You felt rejected, right? Be honest?”
He struggles for a long moment before dipping his head down once.
“I was protecting myself too, because I had those same doubts,” I tell him.
He exhales sharply, nose flaring. “Well, maybe wewere both protecting ourselves, I guess. The clause muddied up everything. But you didn’t stop loving me specifically, did you? I did.” His eyes glisten with self-reproaching anger. “I let the clause explain things that never needed explaining. And I’m so stupid for ever turning my head the other way. I know I never stopped loving you. But… I neglected you all the same.”
I frantically slide closer until our foreheads touch. And his eyes flutter shut.
We remain that way for so long that I forget he hasn’t technically answered my question. Not until he breaks the silence with his roughened voice. “I have a playlist on my phone because you hum along to songs whenever we’re driving somewhere. Did you know that?”
A watery laugh escapes me as I shake my head.
“You do.” His mouth twitches. “And whenever you don’t hum, I know you’ve had a bad day. Or something is weighing on your mind that you can’t enjoy the music.”
Leaning back, I stare at him with a frown. Because even though that sounds right, I’m baffled that he noticed it.
