When Isabella woke, the room was still.Soft morning light filtered through the curtains, painting pale gold across the sheets.
She didn't move at first.
Elijah's arm was still around her waist, just as it had been in the middle of the night—firm, steady, possessive in the kind of way that felt less like ownership and more like gravity. His chest rose and fell against her back, slow and calm, as if holding her was the only way he'd slept at all.
She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts a tangled mess.
He followed her.He stopped her.He held her.He stayed.
She should hate him.She wanted to—at least she told herself she did.
But there was a part of her that remembered the way his voice broke when he said I won't lose you.
Her throat tightened.
How had everything become so complicated so quickly?
She tried to move away—just an inch—but his arm tightened automatically, like his body recognized the motion before he woke.
His voice came next, low and still heavy with sleep.
"Don't," he murmured.
Her breath caught.
He shifted just enough to rest his forehead against the back of her shoulder.Warm.Close.Real.
She didn't say anything.
And then he woke fully.She felt it.His breathing changed.His hold loosened—not to let her go, but to give her space to turn if she wanted.
She didn't.She wasn't sure she could handle looking at him yet.
"Elijah," she whispered, voice rough from sleep and tears and everything in between.
"Yes," he answered, just as quiet.
She hesitated.
"You can't… do that. Last night. Coming here."Her voice shook."That's not something you get to do."
His hand on her waist flexed, fingers curling slightly.
"I know."His voice was steady. Too steady."But I couldn't let you go to sleep alone. Not after that."
She swallowed, staring at his hand, at the way it held her like she was something breakable and irreplaceable.
"You scared me," she whispered.
There was a long, heavy pause.
"I scared myself," he admitted.
That startled her.Enough to finally turn toward him.
His eyes were open now—deep and tired and unguarded in a way she had never seen before.There were no sharp lines of control.No cold arrogance.
Just him.
She searched his face."For what this is. For how big it is."
He didn't deny it.
"I know it's unfair," he said quietly. "I know you didn't choose this."
The words hit something inside her.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"Her voice was almost a whisper.Fragile.Honest.
Elijah looked at her.Not away.Not down.
"Because the moment I told you," he said softly, "I knew I would lose you."
Her chest tightened.Painfully.
She hated that she understood.
Silence sat between them, warm and heavy beneath the blankets.
"Elijah…" she began.
He shook his head slowly."No. Not now. You don't have to forgive me. You don't have to decide anything today."
His hand lifted, fingertips brushing her cheek.
"Just stay," he said quietly. "For this moment. Here. With me."
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
She didn't pull away.