The room was quiet now, the kind of silence that felt sacred. The world outside didn't matter. Not the past, not the pain. Just this—her breathing against his chest, the weight of her body curled against his side like he was her only anchor.
Nicholas didn't move.
He couldn't.
Because if he did, the moment might shatter.
His fingers continued their slow path along her back, memorizing every curve, every tremble that lingered from her tears. She'd fallen asleep, but her body hadn't quite relaxed. Like she was still on the edge of waking, still afraid this safety was just a dream she'd have to wake from.
He wanted to protect her from that.
From everything.
He'd told himself not to get involved. That she was too fragile, too broken, and he wasn't the man who could fix someone like her.
But maybe she didn't need fixing.
Maybe she just needed someone to stay.
