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“I’ll let the two of you talk.”
The door clicks softly behind her. The room falls silent. I stare at the floor. Unable to look at Conor. Unable to trust myself if I do. The place where she kissed my head still feels warm. As though years of believing I was unwanted collided with one simple gesture… and neither of them knows which one is supposed to win.
“Your mom is the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” My voice cracks. “Do you know how fucking lucky you are?”
The tears come before I can stop them. I don’t bother wiping them away. I don’t have the energy. Conor reaches for me. Both hands framing my face with familiar certainty.
“How fucking lucky we are.” His thumbs brush away the tears as fast as they fall. “We, Jaxon. She wasn’t saying empty words.” A faint smile touches his lips. “The one thing she has never done is say something she doesn’t believe.”
His forehead comes to rest against mine. “You’re part of this family.” The words are spoken as fact. Not opinion. Fact.
“And you’re part of me, A Chroí.” His hands don’t tremble.“I told you I wanted to give you everything.” He punctuates each statement with a kiss.
“A home.” Kiss to my forehead
“A family.” To my right cheek.
“Safety.” Left cheek.
“A place where you never have to wonder if someone is coming back for you.” Tip of my nose. His eyes search mine.
“And love.” A sweet, gentle kiss to my lips. The last word is almost a whisper. “If you’ll let me.”
I close my eyes. Because looking at him hurts. Because believing him hurts even more. Conor presses one last kiss to my forehead.
“You spent your whole life being shown that you didn’t matter.” His voice is steady. Certain. “I can’t erase that. I can’t make you believe me tonight or next week, or even next year.” He pauses. “But I have the rest of my life.” His thumb brushes across my cheek. “And I’ll spend every single day proving you wrong.”
The room falls quiet. For the first time in a very long time, the thought of forever doesn’t terrify me. It sounds a little like coming home.
“Your mom was wrong about something.” The words make Conor pull back just enough to search my face. Confusion flickers across his features.
“Yeah?” His thumbs are still resting against my jaw. “What was that?”
I let out a shaky breath. “She said you don’t have the words.” A small smile finds its way to my lips through the tears. “I think she’s wrong.”
His brow furrows.
“What you just said to me…” My voice catches. I swallow and try again. “…was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”
For a moment, Conor simply stares. As though I’ve spoken a language he doesn’t understand.
“I’ve never been good with words.” He says it like a fact. Not fishing for reassurance. Just stating the truth as he sees it.
I shake my head.
“No.” I reach up and cover one of his hands with mine. “You’re not good at pretty words.”
His lips twitch.
“You’re good at honest ones.”
The room falls quiet again. Different this time. Peaceful. I think about everything he’s done since walking into my life. Holding me through nightmares. Cooking for me. Finding a therapist. Sleeping in an uncomfortable position just so I wouldn’t wake up alone. Putting his hand on my back whenever the world became too much. Every action saying the same thing.
You matter.
I smile through the tears. “You’ve been telling me how you feel since the day we met.”
My fingers tighten around his hand.
