Chapter twenty two
Simon Riley
I've been through fire.
I've buried brothers.
Watched men die screaming my name.
But none of that compares to the sound of her walking away.
Not leaving—walking away.
Head held high.
Voice shaking.
Eyes blazing.
And I just stood there.
Watching.
Frozen.
Wrecked.
Because she was right.
⸻
It takes me all night to admit it to myself.
I pace the same patch of ground until my boots wear the dirt raw. Go over her words again and again in my head like some kind of punishment.
"You're too scared to let yourself be loved without turning it into another battle."
She said that like she saw all the way through me.
And maybe she does.
Because I am scared.
Not of what this is. Not even of losing my rank or getting caught or what the whispers might turn into.
I'm scared of her.
Of what she means to me.
Of how far I'd go to protect her.
How much I'd burn for her.
Because if anything ever happened to her, because of me…
I wouldn't survive it.
⸻
When I finally find her, it's just after dawn.
She's on the edge of camp, sitting on a crate, hugging a mug of something warm. Hair pulled back, jacket too thin for the morning chill. She looks like she hasn't slept.
I step out of the shadows. Quiet, but not hiding.
Her eyes snap up to mine, and I brace myself for the walls to be there. For her to shut me out the way I did to her.
But she doesn't.
She just looks tired. Hurt. Waiting.
I crouch down in front of her. Don't touch her. Not yet. Don't speak until she looks directly at me.
"I've never had anything I was scared to lose," I say. "Not really. Family was gone. Brothers were dead. Even my own name didn't feel like it belonged to me."
She doesn't say anything. Just watches me. Breath shallow. Shoulders tight.
Then I say the words I've never said to anyone.
"But then you walked into my world with those big eyes and that ridiculous laugh and that damn stubborn heart… and suddenly I had something to lose again. Someone."
She swallows hard. Her fingers tremble on the mug.
"I know I messed up. I thought pushing you away would keep you safe. I thought I was protecting you."
She whispers, "By breaking me?"
And that's when I touch her. Gently. My fingers curling under her chin, lifting her gaze to mine.
"No," I say. "By breaking myself. Because if anything ever happened to you, I wouldn't just hurt—I'd burn. All the way down."
She closes her eyes. One tear slips free.
I catch it with my thumb. Like it's sacred.
"I don't want to survive you," I murmur. "I want to live with you. Even if it's messy. Even if we have to lie, sneak, fight like hell to hold on."
Finally—finally—she leans into me.
And I bury my face in her neck, holding her like a lifeline.
"I love you," I whisper against her skin. "God help me, I love you."
She breaks then. Right there in my arms. No drama. No speeches. Just soft, relieved sobs as her fingers twist into my shirt like she never wants to let go.
"You better mean that, Riley," she breathes, voice wrecked.
"I do."
And for the first time since this war began—
I feel like I've won something.