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"Neither did I," he replies, voice low and gravelly. It's like he's reaching inside me, fumbling for something I didn't even know was there.
My breath hitches as I pull back, my gaze locking with his. There's an urgency in those depths. He's waiting, hanging on athread for my answer. I bite my lip, my heart hammering against my ribs. I want to blurt out the words, let them spill like the rain against the windowpane, but they're stuck, lodged in my throat like a bullet.
"Say something, little rabbit," he presses, the lines of his face tight, etched with pain and hope and a thousand unspoken promises.
"Constantino, I..." My voice trails off as I search his face, the scars, the shadows under his eyes—every mark a story of his life, of our twisted journey. It's clear he's bracing for rejection, ready to argue his case, to fight with that fierce determination that both terrifies and electrifies me.
"Look, I get it," he starts, his voice rough like gravel, yet there's a tenderness to it that wasn't there before. "I've got no right to ask you for a goddamn thing."
Sitting across from him, my heart races as I watch a muscle twitch in his jaw. His green eyes are intense.
"Your past... what happened with men, what those bastards did to you, I know it's scarred you." He pauses, the weight of his own words pressing down. "And this shitshow in the last day—you didn't sign up for any of this."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, watching him struggle with his confession.
"Having kids—never on your radar. I remember when you said it. And now I'm asking you to step into a life that's foreign, dangerous. To be something... someone you never planned to be." His hand reaches out, stopping just shy of touching mine.
"Constantino..." My voice cracks, emotion swelling like a tide. Tears blur my vision, but I fight them, not wanting to miss a single moment of his transformation.
"Everything you're saying, it's true—and it's not." I swallow hard, trying to gather my thoughts. "I didn't trust men. That's afact. But then you barged into that warehouse, a raging storm, for Evan... for me.
"And yeah, the kidnapping, it was horrific," I continue, my throat tight. "But standing beside you, watching you fight for us... it did something to me. Changed me."
As my gaze locks with his, a shiver runs down my spine.
"Never wanted kids, huh?" I let out a humorless laugh, the sound echoing around the sparsely furnished room. "Then that little boy comes along, hugs me, holds my hand like I'm his world, and suddenly... I can't imagine a life without him."
My eyes don't waver from his, even as they sting with unshed tears. "You think you've changed because of me, but the truth is, I'm not the same woman I was. Because of you. Because of him."
He watches me, the man who's known for his anger, his volatility, now looking lost. The leather wristband hides the secret of his condition, but in this moment, it's like I can see through it, straight into the heart of Constantino Maldonado—a heart that beats fiercely, desperately, for something more than power or fear.
"Because of us," he whispers, leaning forward, his voice so low it's almost swallowed by the silence. "Is that what you're saying?"
"Because of us," I repeat, strength and certainty filling the hollows of my broken resolve. "We're a mess, you know that? But maybe... maybe we're exactly the mess we need to be."
"What does that mean, Evelyn?" Constantino's question hangs between us, heavy like the air before a storm.
"Listen," I start again, my fingers tracing the stubble along his jaw, "I should be running for the hills, screaming at the top of my lungs. But here I am, completely tangled up in you, and in that little boy who thinks you hang the moon."
"Is that your way of saying..." His voice fades into a hopeful whisper, his body tensed like a coiled spring.
"Damn you for making it impossible to say no." My heart surrenders, the words tumbling out with a mix of exasperation and affection. "Yes, Constantino. Yes to this madness, yes to the danger, yes to you and Evan. And," my voice hesitates but I push past the doubt, "yes to loving you."
His hands cup my face, rough and gentle all at once. "You're sure?" he asks, his eyes searching mine for any sign of doubt.
"Terrifyingly sure," I admit, sealing my fate with another kiss, tasting the bittersweet tang of a future unknown but suddenly, undeniably ours.
The tears come unbidden, streaming hot and fast down my cheeks. I'm crying—crying because I can't hold back the wave of relief that is rushing through me.
His arms wrap around me tighter and I feel the wince he tries to hide. His body is a map of bruises and pain, but here he is, holding me like I'm the one who needs saving. His lips move against mine in a kiss tinged with the taste of salt from my tears.
After what feels like an eternity flashing by in a second, he pulls back. "I’m the luckiest bastard on earth," he says, his voice gravelly. "I'm shit with words, but I swear, I'll spend every damn day proving I'm worthy of you."
"Prove?" I shake my head, brushing away the wetness on my cheeks. "Just be you, Constantino. Not the man everyone else expects you to be. Just... you. That’s who I love."
"Fuck, I don't deserve you," he says. He's about to move in to kiss me again, but the moment shatters with the sound of the door slamming open. Evan barrels into the room, his youthful energy a stark contrast to the heavy emotions hanging in the air. Teddy huffs in behind him, chest heaving as if he’s run a marathon.
"Sorry, I tried," Teddy pants, hands on his knees. "Kid’s got speed like a damn cheetah."
