Page 277 of Cruel Throne

My throat tightens as my fingers trace the old cut in the wood.

Memories slam into me so hard I almost stumble.

Seventeen. Barefoot. Laughing too loud.

Lorenzo young and reckless.

Now I stand here with two children and the man he became. The man who buried bodies for me in an attempt to stitch my soul back together.

And he did.

I exhale.

My son tilts his head up. “Is this where you fell in love?”

Lorenzo slowly turns his head toward me, eyes fierce with undying love. “This is where our story started.”

My chest aches. This was our place. The beginning. The first chapter.

And now, standing here with the people I love most in the world, this place feels like closure.

Lorenzo steps closer. His free hand wraps around my waist, fingers warm through my shirt. He tilts his head, studying my face like he’s memorizing it all over again. “Do you ever regret it?”

My breath catches.

“Do you?” I respond.

We both know what he’s asking . . .

What I’m asking.

The estate.

The war.

The fear.

The years in hiding.

The blood on his hands.

I meet his eyes. “Not for a second,” I answer.

His brow tightens. “Not even the worst parts? Not even . . . what I did? What I became?”

My chest aches.

I lift my hand and press my palm against his cheek.

I smile. “Especially the worst parts,” I whisper. “I’ll never regret those parts.”

His eyes darken, not with hunger, but with something deeper, something grateful.

He exhales like he’s been underwater for years and just surfaced.

We thought love ruined us. Turns out it saved us instead.

Together, we step out of the boathouse.

Our son races ahead as our daughter squirms in Lorenzo’s arms, wanting to run after him.

Then I tilt my head toward the ruined estate, then toward the water, and last toward the open sky.

Thankful for every challenge that we had to overcome because without them . . .

We wouldn’t be here.

Together.

Forever.