POV: Han Galloway
Millie stumbles alongside me through the dark, her fingers locked around mine as she tries to keep up. That kiss gave me exactly what I needed - courage, certainty, the push past the last thing I'd been holding back. I'm done explaining. Explanations haven't worked, not once, not in a week of careful words and careful distance. Proof is the only language that leaves no room to argue.
The night air is doing its job on her. It's burning off the whiskey faster than I'd like, and she's sharpening up, asking questions I sidestep. Every answer I give, she turns over in her head and reassembles into something that fits her world. I've watched her do it all week - watched that brilliant, stubborn mind of hers build walls out of whatever bricks I hand her. She could probably rat
