Not fast.
Not threatening.
But close enough that I could see the small pulse in his neck. Close enough that I could smell the wine on his breath.
“I protected you,” he said. “For a decade.”
“You protected yourself.”
The words slipped out before I could soften them.
His eyes darkened.
“Be careful,” he said quietly.
A chill ran down my spine.
Careful.
The warning was gentle, but it wasn’t empty.
I stood slowly, not wanting to appear like prey rising too quickly.
“We can fix this,” he continued, tone smoothing again. “You’re scared. I understand that. Anyone would be.”
“I’m not scared,” I lied.
He gave a small smile. “Yes,” he said softly. “You are.”
He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly along my arm.
The contact felt wrong now.
Not comforting. Claiming.
“You think I’d hurt you?” he asked.
I didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.
Trevor’s expression shifted - not fury.
Wounded pride.
“I did all of this because I love you,” he said. “Because I saw what you deserved. Because I knew he couldn’t give it to you.”
“That wasn’t your decision.”
“It became mine.”
I took a step back without meaning to.
He noticed.
His eyes flicked down to my feet, then back up to my face. “That’s new,” he murmured.
My pulse spiked.
“What is?”