I touched my lips to his. It wasn’t heated or desperate like earlier. The contact was light, barely there. But I felt so much in that gentle kiss, and I knew his words were true. That he’d always be here for me. He’d always give me what I needed, even if I didn’t realize it.
Just like he did tonight.
A peaceful silence filled the bathroom as he rinsed the shampoo from my hair, warm water cascading over my scalp and down my back. After he finished conditioning my hair, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him.
“Feel better?” he asked, leaving a soft kiss on the top of my head.
“Much.”
“Good.”
I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes as I ran my hand up and down his leg, savoring the silence. In how safe I felt. I’d never experienced this kind of peace before.
“I was confused,” I said, cutting through the quiet.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice rough with exhaustion.
“When you found me in the shower. A part of me thought you’d think I was crazy for feeling confused about what I did to Victor, all things considered.”
He touched my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, averting my gaze. “I guess…” I drew in a deep breath, attempting to find the right words without making him sound callous. “You just seemed so…nonchalant about the people you’ve killed. The Bratva soldiers. Dr. Schaffer.”
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t interrupt, allowing me to say what I needed to.
“I wasn’t prepared to feel the way I did. I thought I’d feel vindicated or relieved. And I did.” I leaned my head back against his chest, staring at the wall in front of me. “The rational part of me knew I did what I had to do. That if I hadn’t, I’d be the one lying in a pool of blood on your living room floor.”
He tightened his arms around me, as if needing the reminder it wasn’t. That I was alive.
“But another part of me felt this overwhelming sense of shame. I guess I was worried you’d see me as weak.” I drew circles on his leg. “Not the warrior you called me.”
“Listen to me, Ariana,” he began, the determination in his voice forcing my gaze to his. “You will always be a warrior in my eyes. Nothing you do or say or feel will ever change that. Okay?”
He held my stare, forcing me to see the truth in his words. The conviction in his voice left no room for doubt.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Good.” He pulled me against him, a comfortable silence wrapping around us.
The water had begun to cool, but I didn’t make any move to get out. I wanted to stay here. In his arms. In this moment, especially as his thumb lazily drifted over the scars on my stomach.
Even with my eyes closed, I knew what he was writing. Not the word Victor carved into me. Instead, he used this to remind me how he saw me.
As a warrior.
“I threw up,” he murmured.
“When?” I snapped my head back to Henry. “Are you okay?”
His lips curved into a small smile that managed to make my heart race. God, I loved his smile. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, it lit up everything inside me.
“Not today.” He pulled me back against him. “My first time.”
“Oh.” I swallowed hard, knowing what he was referring to.
And it wasn’t his first time having sex.
This shouldn’t have been a normal conversation. Most people didn’t swap stories about the first time they took a life.