Page 174 of The Ache That Stayed

He leaned in close enough that she stilled. Instead, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, slowly. Santino caught the tear before it could fall, his thumb brushing beneath her eye with a tenderness that sat strangely on a man like him.

Jealousy crawled hot and immediate through me. I swallowed it whole. Because this was the reality now. And my heart already belonged to her anyway.

Then—slowly, she turned to face me, wiping away her tears. Santino didn’t let go. His hand was at her waist. My grip tightened around the coffee mug.

So this was what surrender felt like. A man learning to live with what he’d chosen.

She looked between the two of us.

“I don’t know what this is supposed to make me,” she whispered.

Her voice wasn’t steady—but it wasn’t breaking either.

“I don’t know what I’m meant to be anymore.”

A breath. Her gaze lifted and met mine. Steady. Not hiding this time.

“I just know…” Her breath hitched. “I can’t choose between you.”

She looked down at her hands.

“And I don’t want to,” she said, finally admitting.

We stood in silence for a moment, letting her words settle between us. I didn’t fully understand what we were becoming.

But I understood her. I walked toward her slowly, my hand settling beneath her chin before I lifted her gaze back to mine.

“I’m not asking you to.”

Santino looked at me in understanding.

I kissed her slowly. My forehead met hers, and she let out a deep breath. Her hands came around my neck, holding me there.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

My thumb brushed the side of her throat.

“For what?”

Her eyes lifted to mine. Fresh tears gathered there.

“For not killing him.”

The words came out quietly. There was no accusation or guilt in her voice. Just honesty.

For a second, neither of us spoke. Because we both knew she had spent weeks believing I’d done exactly that. My thumb moved slowly against her skin.

Control had always been mine to wield. But never against her. And just like that, something in me gave. My shoulders relaxed slightly, loosening the tension I hadn’t realised I was holding.

“Amore,” I scoffed. “I came very close.”

In that moment, I understood the truth I’d been resisting.

She had become the axis around which both our lives turned.

“This doesn’t make you equal to me,” I said, looking at Santino.

My voice was calm. Measured. Certain in a way that Roxanne stilled.