I couldn’t stop the storm raging in my chest as Roberto whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice, steady and resolute, was like an anchor trying to tether me against an incoming tide. Yet, beneath that promise, I saw the weight he carried—grief etched in the lines of his face, his brother’s death shadowing every move he made.
How could he console me when his own heart was breaking? It made me feel small, selfish even, to let him bear my fears alongside his own. I swallowed hard, attempting to pull strength from somewhere deep within. “It’s not just me I’m worried about.” My voice came out softer than I intended, nearly drowned by the turmoil in my head.
“I know,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over my knuckles. “We’ll put a stop to this. I swear it.”
They were just word
