His gaze drops to my mouth, then goes back to my eyes.
“This,” he says.
The word is full of everything he can’t control.
Everything he wants.
Everything he’s terrified of.
I breathe in slowly.
“And what did youlearn?” I whisper.
“That I’m not built for distance anymore,” he admits, voice rough.
Heat blooms in my chest, painful and bright.
“You’re not going to lose me,” I say quietly.
His eyes darken.
“You don’t know that,” he whispers.
I lean in, close enough that he can feel my breath on his face.
“I do,” I say, steady. “Because I’m not your mother. I’m not your past. And I’m not going anywhere.”
His hand tightens around mine like he’s afraid to believe it.
“Ivy,” he says, my name sounding like a confession.
I wait.
He closes his eyes for a second.
Then opens them, looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world.
“I thought I would die tonight without telling you,” he says quietly. “And the idea of that?—”
His voice breaks.
“It terrified me more than anything that’s ever happened to me.”
My chest aches.
I touch his jaw, grounding him. “Tell me, now,” I whisper.
Sebastian swallows.
His voice is barely audible. “I love you.”
The words are simple, hitting my ribs like a second heartbeat.
Mr. Pickles purrs like he approves.
My eyes burn, but I don’t cry. Not yet.
I just stare at him, a smile tugging at my lips.
