I don’t step away.
That’s the first thing I do wrong.
His hands are still on my waist. Warm. Familiar. Like they’ve been waiting there all along. I should say something. I should remember my mother’s voice. Her arms around me. The way she said you are your own.
Instead, I exhale.
And that’s all it takes.
Ethan’s forehead drops to mine. His breath is uneven now. Not controlled. Not careful.
“I shouldn’t,” he says.
I nod. Because that’s true.
But I don’t move.
He cups my face like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. His thumb brushes under my eye, catching the last of the tears I didn’t realize were still there.
“I blocked her,” I whisper. “I told myself I was choosing me.”
His jaw tightens. Guilt. Relief. Want. All tangled together.
“And now?” he asks quietly.
I d
