A LIFE IN LIMBO
The honesty in his voice startled her. For a moment, she glimpsed something raw, almost vulnerable, in his eyes. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that cool, confident mask he always wore.
“I won’t jump,” she said, the words more for herself than him. “But I can’t live like this either.”
“You will,” he murmured, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming in the darkened space. “You’ll adapt. I’ll help you.”
“Help me?” she echoed, a bitter laugh escaping her. “You’re the reason I’m trapped here.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, reaching out to touch her cheek. “But you’re not alone. You have me.”
His fingers were warm against her skin, and despite everything, she leaned into the touch, desperate for some semblance of comfort. “What do you want from me, Lysander
