Ishould say something.
I tell myself that at least three times before the words even form. The silence between us stretches, not in an awkward way exactly, just…dense. Heavy with history that doesn’t evaporate because years passed.
Rowan sits beside me on the porch, loose-limbed and at ease, one boot hooked over the railing, shoulders relaxed. He looks…different. Almost more dangerous. Like he knows exactly who he is now and doesn’t feel the need to prove it. There’s that unmistakable warmth in him, though, refusing to burn out.
It’s the same thing that always anchored me, even when my thoughts were sprinting ahead faster than I could catch them. He was always the calm center of the mess I pretended wasn’t chaos. Some part of me still recognizes that gravity, which is inconvenient. Because I’m not the girl I was back then. I grew a spine.
What does this mean? What are we doing here? This thing we’re dancing around doesn’t come without a price. Second chances never come free. They just wear better disguises, and this one is dangling in front of me, all shiny and tempting, pretending it won’t ask for more than I’m willing to give.
I sneak a glance at him. He’s absentmindedly running his fingers through Bramble’s fur, the dog utterly content. Rowan’s face is calm, unreadable.
And now I’m suspicious.
Is he weathering his own internal storm? Or is he just waiting for me to catch up?
Say something, Violet.
Maybe I don’t know what this thing between us is yet, the uncertainty that lingers in the air like a bubble just waiting to burst, but I know whatIneed.
My voice breaks the comfortable silence. “I need to say something.”
Rowan’s eyes meet mine. His hand stills in Bramble’s fur, fingers caught mid-stroke. He doesn’t rush me. Doesn’t fill the quiet. He just waits.
“I want to try this,” I say, the words leaving me more easily now, like they were just waiting for the right moment to break free. “Us.”
I hold his gaze, forcing myself not to flinch. “But I can’t do halfway.”
His expression shifts, a slight furrow in his brow as he sits up straighter. He reaches for my hand, but I shake my head before his fingers can touch mine. Not yet. I need to say this without him scrambling my thoughts. His stupid, warm, unfairly attractive hands make everything more confusing.
My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. “If we’re doing this, I need to know you’re staying.”
His eyes soften, but his jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he might say something to reassure me. “Violet?—”
“I’m not finished,” I cut him off, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “I need honesty. Completely. Even when it’s hard. Even when you think it might hurt me.”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “And I need you to understand something,” I say. “I’ve built a life here. A real one.It’s good.” My fingers curl into my palm. “I can’t burn it down for the possibility of something that might not last.”
I wait for the shift. The retreat.
Instead, Rowan reaches for me again. His fingers brush mine, and the touch lands with more weight than the kiss did.
“I came back for a reason, Violet,” he says quietly.
I look at him then,reallylook. The lines at the corners of his eyes. The seriousness in his mouth. This isn’t a man chasing nostalgia. This is someone who knows exactly what he’s risking.
“I didn’t even know if you’d want to talk to me,” he continues. “Didn’t know if I deserved that much.” His thumb shifts, a soft press against my knuckles. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl who used to look at me like I wasn’t broken.”
I blink, stunned by the rawness in his words and the way they break open some part of me I’ve kept closed for too long.
“And I’m staying because I want to be the man who actually deserves that look.”
All this time, I’ve kept myself from believing we could ever be more than an unfinished thought. Now… I let myself take that step.
I don’t know what makes me move first. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me, like the world narrowed and I’m standing dead center. Maybe it’s the promise threaded through his words.
I lean into him, not because I need him to catch me, but because I want to finally know what happens when neither of us pulls away.
Rowan moves instantly, as if he’s been holding himself back by sheer will. He’s out of his chair and kneeling in front of me, his presence suddenly everywhere. His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing just beneath my cheekbones, and I forget how to look anywhere else.