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Her chest rises as she drags in a long, shaky breath, her eyes shimmering at the corners with unshed tears. It’s clear she can’t quite believe everything I’m saying, and I can relate to that too. Reassurances and kind words can’t always penetrate the clamor of other, worse voices in our heads. But I mean everything I just said, and I’ll tell it to her every day if that’s what it takes, until she can see all of those things in herself again.
Emotions build inside me as I gaze at her. I’ve always felt a bit closed off from my feelings, locked inside myself by my old trauma. But I can feel new words bubbling up, straining to escape my mouth as if they have a mind of their own and demand to be said.
“You’re the best person I know, butterfly,” I murmur. “And I lo—”
Willow’s eyes widen as she registers what I’m about to say.
“Don’t,” she blurts quickly, cutting me off.
I close my mouth, my heart hammering. There are more tears swimming in her eyes, threatening to fall as she shakes her head.
“Please don’t,” she whispers. “Not like this. Don’t say it now, not when I’m broken like this. When I can’t even stand to be touched. Can’t hug you or kiss you the way I want to.”
I stiffen, my jaw clenching as I take in her sad expression. I hate seeing her like this. Hate knowing she’s in so much pain. That she thinks she’s broken.
So even though this woman could tell me to walk into a burning building and I’d do it, this is the one time Ican’tdo what she’s asking of me.
“I love you,” I tell her, letting each word fall from my lips with clarity. Letting her hear the truth behind each syllable.
She blinks, sending tears spilling over her eyelids and down her cheeks. I want to wipe them away, but instead, I open my mouth and speak again.
“I love you,” I repeat, the words pouring out of me. “Right now, in this moment. Not later. Not after you’ve had more time to recover. I love who you are,always. Every part of you, in every way. And you willneverbe broken in my eyes.”
My chest tightens, my entire body overwhelmed by the rush of emotions flooding through me. The day I saw that trucker put his hands on Willow and ended up stabbing a knife through his hand, it was like the door I was trying to keep closed on my feelings was blasted open. But this? This is like the entire wall has been demolished, every bit of armor I’ve ever erected around myself falling away in my need to make Willow understand how deeply I care for her.
“You never treated me like I was broken for not being able to handle being touched,” I continue, my voice hoarse with feeling. “You never stopped caring, even when I tried to push you away. So I’ll never treat you like you’re broken, butterfly. Because you aren’t. And no matter what happens, I’ll always love you. I couldn’t stop even if I tried.”
12
WILLOW
Something cracksopen in my chest as Victor’s words wash over me.
It makes my chest ache, deep and throbbing, the raw honesty of his confession hitting me hard. But at the same time, it also soothes some of the pain I’ve been carrying in my heart. Like a balm against the darkness that’s been threatening to drown me ever since I woke up in Troy’s hold.
I missed all of the Voronin brothers so much, and as much as I tried to reassure myself that I was going to see them again and that they would come for me, I had no way of knowing if that was true or not. It’s like it’s hitting me all over again that theydidcome.
They spent days locked in this room, searching for any sign of where I was.
They fought their way through Troy’s guards and took him out.
And they saved me.
Tears run down my cheeks, spilling over and sliding down my face, but I don’t reach up to brush them away. Instead, I reach out for Vic, taking his hand. Our fingers lace together like they were made to interlace just like this, and I lean forward, needing to be closer to him.
Vic leans in as well, and we meet in the middle, our foreheads resting together. I wish I could do more in this moment. I wish I could kiss him or hold him or crawl onto his lap and ride him slow and deep—anything to show how deeply his words are affecting me right now.
But Vic doesn’t seem upset that this is all I can offer right now. He doesn’t seem like he feels the lack. His bright blue eyes are shining, and there’s a small, breathtaking smile on his face as he keeps talking, his voice low and insistent.
“I mean it, butterfly,” he murmurs. “You saved me. Did you know that? You changed me. And at first, I was so angry about it. Change was never a good thing, and I liked my well-worn routines and the way I had my life ordered. In my mind, everything that was different was your fault at first, and it made me so uncomfortable. But then you became so important to me. With every conversation, every time you let me in, every time you made me feel like I could matter to you… you showed me that things could be different. There was a part of myself that I never believed existed, and you showed me that it did.”
I let out a shuddery breath, wrapped up in his words. “It was always there,” I tell him. “At least, I hoped it was.”
Vic laughs quietly. Then his expression turns more serious, and I feel his soft sigh ghost against my lips.
“I always knew I was going to be the odd person out,” he murmurs. “Malice was going to fuck and fight his way through life the way he wanted to, and Ransom was going to find someone to settle down with eventually, because he’s like that. And I was just going to… be there. Behind a screen, keeping the world at arm’s length.”
It makes me sad to hear him talk about himself like that, but I do have to admit that when I first met him, it seemed like that was what he wanted. To be alone with his computer, handling things behind the scenes and not letting anyone but his brothers get close.
