Page 164 of Top Shelf

I grimace.

At least my family cared enough to feed me. To ensure I had clothes that sort of fit and a mattress to sleep on. The foster families didn’t. When they looked at me, all they saw was a paycheck, someone to do manual labor around the house,and when I was older, someone to look after their own rugrats.

My throat is desert dry, and my stomach churns with nausea. All I can picture is a little boy with white-blond hair standing in a stranger’s kitchen, trying to be useful. Trying to be good enough. Trying to earn a place that should have been given freely.

Something sharp twists beneath my ribs. Nobody should have to earn being loved.

“Is that when you stopped talking?” The question comes out quietly.

His lips twitch, this time with a small hint of humor at me piecing it together.

What was the point in talking when no one was listening?

My heart breaks for him as my eyes close, because suddenly I understand something I’ve never understood about Silas. It was never about the silence. It was all about the surrender. Somewhere along the way, enough people ignored him that he stopped believing his voice mattered.

I might not have been through what he has, but I know what it’s like to not feel listened to. I can’t imagine to what extent he endured that before he gave up and stopped trying.

When I meet his gaze again, he has written more for me.

By the time I met Ronan and Lucian, it was easier to just not try.

“You were used to the silence by then.”

He nods.

Everything about Silas makes so much more sense now. He hasn’t ever been anyone’s first choice. Never been someone’s forever. Without thinking, I reach for him. Silas immediately gathers me into his arms like he needs the comfort too.

I bury my face against his chest. His heartbeat thumps steadily beneath my cheek, strong and certain.

“You should’ve had better.” My words come out muffled.

His arms tighten around me. For several moments, neither of us speaks.

“I’ll always listen to you.” I lean back far enough that I can see his face. “I’ll always choose you.”

His eyes lock on mine, and I realize this isn’t a romantic promise to him. Nobody ever stayed for him. Nobody kept him. He was never anyone’s choice...

Now,I’mchoosing him.

Reaching up, I cup his face. His eyes close briefly beneath the touch. It is no wonder he keeps people at arm’s length. Why every touch from him feels precious. Why he loves so quietly. No one ever taught him he was worth staying for.

God, they were so wrong.

Sitting here, looking at him, I can’t imagine anyone notchoosing Silas. I can’t imagine a world where he wasn’t worth staying for.

“I love you.”

The words are past my lips before I can stop them, but I don’t regret them. Don’t rush to take them back. I mean every single one. I love him. I love all of them.

Silas stills. Completely. Then his forehead drops against mine, and I swear I’ve never seen a person look more wrecked by three simple words.

His eyes momentarily close as though absorbing the moment, committing it to memory. When they open again, they’re shining. Wet. Vulnerable. Terrified. Like this costs him something. Like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff.

His throat works. His Adam’s apple bobbing once. Twice.

His voice comes out rough, rusted from years of disuse, and barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”