Even Ava looked affected by that.
Flick laughed softly then, but there wasn’t anything funny in the sound.
“Do you know how long it’s been since someone called me by my real name?”
Jesus Christ.
Something inside me twisted violently.
Because the answer was probably:
Until me.
Her eyes finally lifted toward mine again.
And there it was.
Everything.
History.
Love.
Pain.
Home.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
That did it.
I crossed the remaining distance between us before I could think better of it.
My hand settled gently against the side of her neck.
Warm skin.
Shaking pulse.
Flick closed her eyes instantly like the touch hurt and healed at the same time.
“You’re not alone anymore,” I said quietly.
The room went completely silent.
Not awkward silence.
The kind of silence people fall intowhen they're witnessing something important.
Because every person standing there understood exactly what they were seeing.
Sixteen years didn’t kill this.
Nothing did.
Flick’s eyes opened slowly.
Wet now.
