Page 62 of The Truths We Find

I pull out of her and lay us down so we’re on our sides facing each other.

“You okay?” I ask, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

She smiles and places a gentle kiss on my lips. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

“Me too.” I smile back.

“But we have a lot to talk about. Why don’t you go take care of that”—she gestures to my condom—“and we can chat a bit?”

I chuckle. “Sounds like a plan.”

I head into the bathroom to clean up, going through the motions on autopilot. When I finally look up, my reflection catches me off guard. There’s a grin on my face I can’t seem to shake.

I could tell myself it’s just the afterglow. But I know better.

It’s her.

It’s always been Dani.

Her words echo back to me. We have a lot to talk about. For the first time, the thought doesn’t scare me. There are things I should have told her years ago. Things I didn’t because I thought silence was protection. Because I thought walking away was the only way to keep her safe.

I was wrong.

If we’re going to have a real chance now, she deserves the truth. All of it. I’m not that man anymore, the one who chose fear over honesty. I can protect her now. Not by leaving, but by standing right here and facing what I ran from before.

When I step back into the bedroom, Dani is asleep, sprawled on top of the covers. She looks incredibly beautiful like this. My chest tightens at the sight.

I don’t wake her. Instead, I gently pull the covers over her and slide in behind her. I wrap my arms around her, fitting myself to her like it’s instinct.

I press a kiss to the top of her head and close my eyes, letting sleep take me with one steady thought anchoring me in place.

This time, I’m not going anywhere.

I’m woken up by a blinding light shining across my face. I groan and turn my head, eyes blinking open as confusion settles in. The ceiling isn’t mine. The room smells different.

Then it all rushes back at once.

Vegas.

The hotel.

Dani.

I roll onto my side, my heart pounding as I reach for the empty space beside me. Did she leave? Did she wake up and regret everything? Slip out quietly after deciding last night was a mistake?

My chest tightens as I push myself up, scanning the room for my phone, already bracing myself for disappointment.

Then I hear it.

The sound of the shower behind the closed bathroom door. Relief floods through me so quickly I almost laugh.

She’s still here.

I jump out of bed, completely ignoring the discarded clothes on the floor, and make my way across the room. As I get closer to the bathroom, I hear Dani singing Benson Boone’s “Beautiful Things.”

A slow smile spreads across my face. She’s never pretended to be a singer, and she’s never cared. She’ll still sing in the car with the windows down or hum while she’s distracted, lost in her own little world.

I slowly open the bathroom door and step into the steam-filled room, careful not to give myself away.