Page 171 of Break Me

“I noticed you. Not right away,” he admits. “But I did.”

“I remember thinking I should say something,” I go on, my voice quieter now, the memory pulling tighter around me. “That I should walk in and act normal, like it didn’t matter.”

My fingers tighten slightly against him as I struggle to take my next breath.

“Easy,” Sam whispers as his hand makes small circles on my back. “Take your time.”

My next breath takes too long to come. There’s so much I still need to say. “But I couldn’t,” I finally get out.

I pause, just for a second, feeling it all over again.

“I just stood there and looked at you,” I whisper. “And something in me knew”

His hold on me tightens, and my head settles more fully against him.

The snow falls around us.

“I think I fell in love with you right there,” I say, the words barely more than a breath now. “Before you ever even knew I was there.”

He exhales against me, uneven, his face lowering into my hair like he’s trying to hold onto the moment the same way I am.

“I didn’t,” he says after a second. “Not right away.”

I smile faintly against him because I already know that.

“I fought it,” he continues. “You were too young. You were my best friend’s little sister.” His breath catches, and I feel it where I’m pressed against him. “And I kept telling myself that was enough reason to stay away.”

My chest tightens, and I have to pause, my breath catching before I can pull in the next one, the space between them stretching longer than I want it to.

His arm tightens immediately, his hand moving slowly along my back.

“Raven.” His voice sounds wrecked now, stripped raw with terror. “Don’t go. Please keep breathing.”

I draw in a breath, smaller than before, but enough to keep going.

“I told myself I was doing the right thing,” he says, his voice breaking at the edges now. “That I was protecting you. Protecting him. Protecting everything.”

His grip tightens.

“But I wasn’t. I was just afraid of how much you mattered the second I realized it,” he admits, his voice unsteady now, losing the control he’s been holding onto all night. “I was afraid. That’s what it was. I was afraid of how much you mattered once I finally admitted it, and every time I walked away from you, every time I made you think I didn’t feel it too, I regret all of it.”

“You loved me,” I whisper, the words soft, uneven now, stretched between breaths. “In the only way you knew how.”

It takes me a second to find the next breath.

“And then you loved me the way I needed,” I add quietly.

My chest rises again, slower this time.

“I wouldn’t change anything.”

“I should’ve chosen you sooner,” he says, the words breaking apart as they leave him.

“You chose me,” I whisper, the words stretching gently between breaths. “Every time it mattered, you chose me.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“Yes,” I breathe out. “Always enough.”