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“I know what I did to you,” I whispered. “And I know saying that I’m sorry doesn’t fix this. But I am. I’m so sorry. You trusted me. And I broke it.”

Silas’s expression tightened, grief flashing through the anger.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did.”

The devastation in his voice hurt worse than anything else could have.

I nodded shakily. “I know.”

Silence stretched between us again, thick with everything said, everything still unsaid.

His eyes searched mine.

“Tell me one thing,” he said finally.

I swallowed hard. “Anything.”

“If this hadn’t blown up, would you ever have told me?”

A sob caught painfully in my throat.

Because that was the cruelest twist in fate, wasn’t it? I was going to tell him. As soon as the silly con was over with. But I never got the chance.

“Yes.”

Silas didn’t react.

I couldn’t blame him for not trusting me.

“After the convention. I’d already decided. We were going to walk around the bookstore, and then when we got back to the hotel, I decided I was going to tell you everything.”

“Decided,” he repeated.

“I know how bad that sounds.”

“Maggie,” he said, my name a harsh bark of laughter.

“But I was terrified, Silas. Every day I waited, it got harder, not easier. But I couldn’t keep living like that anymore. I couldn’t keep looking at you and wondering if every good thing between us was about to slip away from me. It was time to tell you. And deal with the fallout.”

And what a fallout it was.

Silas closed his eyes.

“I’ve been alive a long time,” he said, pinning me with his blue eyes. “Long enough to know what it looks like when someone wants something from me. When they mean to use or hurt me. To recognize manipulation.”

His jaw tightened.

“And long enough to know none of those things make people look at someone the way you’ve been looking at me.”

My breath caught painfully in my chest.

“I’m not saying that what you did was okay. It wasn’t. But I also don’t think this was some calculated game on your part. I believe you got in over your head and you didn’t know how to surface again.”

Hope, small and fragile, bloomed in my chest.

“I’ve lived long enough to know that I should walk away from this.” His gaze held mine. “And long enough to know I won’t.”