bChapter 117/bb: /bbLa /bbPOV /b

    By the time I step out of the shower, my limbs are heavy and my head is quieter with the kind of stillness that onlyes after a storm. I wrap one of my favorite towels around me, and see the mirror’s still fogged over. It’s probably a good thing, because I’m not sure what state my face is in after all the tears I shed. The air is humid and smells like my honey–scented shampoo, while my body feels both too fragile and too held. Like it remembers every ce AJ touched me, without trying to fix me.

    He is in my room when I push the bathroom door open, sitting at the edge of my bed, holding my

    grey off–the–shoulder sweater and the softest pair of shorts I own. He lifts his eyes the second he senses me entering the room, like he’s been waiting this whole time with his thoughts half–stranded

    in the hallway between worry and love.

    “Hey,” he says softly, rising to his feet. “Mind if I stay while you get dressed?”

    “Please,” I whisper, my voice raw but steady.

    He hands me the bundle of clothes without a word, then steps back far enough to give me space, but

    not so far that I feel alone. I dress slowly, slipping into the sweater and shorts like armor made of

    cotton and familiarity. When I turn around again, he’s sitting on the bed’s edge again with his legs

    spread and a cushion on the ground between his feet, holding my hairbrush.

    I don’t even hesitate before walking over, settling between his legs, and letting myself exhale a

    breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

    He starts brushing my still–damp hair with slow, familiar strokes, using fingers that are steady and careful not to tug at any knots ites across. Each steady pass he makes through my hair has my body remembering. He used to do this when we were younger, when I had trouble sleeping because of bad weather or a nightmare.

    “You remember how I used to do this for you?” he suddenly asks, vocalizing my inner thoughts.

    With a soft chuckle, I admit, “It was mostly every time I had a bad dream.”

    With a tenderness in his voice that belies his fierce personality, he says, “Then this seems like the perfect time.”

    I don’t say anything at that, because like usual, he’s summed up my current situation perfectly. So I close my eyes and let the silence settle between us, soft and warm in itsfort.

    Chapter 117: La POV

    “You’re quiet,” he murmurs after a few minutes.

    “I don’t know what to say,” I admit.

    “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to feel…okay.”

    I tilt my head slightly, resting my cheek against his inner knee, and his free hand drifts down to tracezy circles over my exposed shoulder. “I’m not okay,” I say softly. “But I think I’m going to

    be.”

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    His breath catches at that, and then he sets the brush aside. Without warning, he leans forward,

    grabs me under my armpits, and lifts me smoothly so I can sit on the bed between his thighs. Then he wraps his arms around me from behind, rests his chin on my right shoulder, and I instinctively

    lift my arms so we can thread our fingers together over my abdomen.

    “I love you, La,” he says simply with no drama or expectation woven in. It’s just the kind of truth that lives deep down in your marrow.

    I turn slightly to face him, somewhat, lifting my left hand to cradle his right cheek, and then say earnestly, “I love you, too.”

    And when he dips his head and kisses me, it’s the kind of kiss that says everything words never

    could. The kiss isn’t urgent, nor distracting from what’s waiting for me downstairs. It’s just deep,

    unhurried, and full of devotion. Like he’s promising me something sacred without even realizing it.

    When we pull apart several minutester, he rests his forehead against mine and whispers, “We’re gonna get through this. iAll /iof ius/ii./ii” /i

    I nod once because deep down, I know it’s true. I’ll never have to face another single trial or tribtion alone while they are in my life.

    With a soft peck on the tip of his nose, I say, “Let’s go downstairs before they send out a search

    party.”

    He chuckles and helps me up with a soft squeeze to my hand, never letting go as we head downstairsb. /b

    The house is still murmuring with low voices when we reach the bottom step. Cade’s pacing, a half- eaten apple in his hand, and Xavier is hunched over hisptop at the dining table, with sses I didn’t know he wore, pushed up on his nose. Hunter’s leaning against the ind, his phone in one hand, and a coffee in the other.

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    Chapter 117: La POV

    But the second they see me, theye to a standstill, and all of them turn toward me like I’m the center bof /bsome internalpass they didn’t know they were following.

    “I’m okay,” I say gently, stopping in the space between the dining table and the kitchen ind. “Or at leastb, /bI’m getting there.”

    It’s not dramatic or tearful. But it is honest. And that’s all they ever want from me.

    AJ stays close by me, but he doesn’t hover. He hands me a cup of coffee someone must’ve poured not long ago because it’s still warm.

    Cade’s the first to move when he crosses the kitchen to me and bumps his shoulder lightly against

    mine. “You scared the shit out of us, Sunshine,” he mutters. “Never do that again.”

    “I’ll put it on my to–do list,” I say, and ites out sounding a bit more like my old self. A little bit

    crooked, but also a little bit strong.

    Xavier gestures toward the table’s surface, where all the legal documents are spread out, now annotated and with various sections highlighted. “I talked to my mentor. She’s already drafting a

    formal response.”

    “Good,” I say as I slowly cross the room to where he sits.

    My legs still feel shaky in ces, but there’s strength in them, too. That quiet, root–deep kind that grows back in after something splits you open.

    I ce my coffee cup down and gently lower myself into the seat beside Xavier. My fingers hover over the edges of some of the papers that are closer to me for a moment, before I press my palm t against them, grounding myself.

    Then I look up. “Let’s fight her properly,” I say in a voice that’s clear, even, and resolute.

    And just like bthat/bb, /bevery single one of them exhales – like they’ve been holding their breath until now–waiting to see what I’ll choose to do from hereon out.

    /

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    Ever After Awaits

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