Page 126 of Romancing in Rot

Those two words hit the center of me and stay there.

“ ‘I always thought you were out of reach,’ ” she reads, voice quiet but steady. “ ‘You saw everything. Back then, it felt like you could look right through people. Through me. Not in a cruel way. Never that. More like you noticed the parts everyone else stepped over.’ ”

Her gaze flicks to mine, then back down.

“ ‘I didn’t think I could ever be the kind of person you’d actually want. I didn’t think I deserved that. Not love. Not the kind that stays.’ ”

The night pulls tighter around us. Behind her, the fire crackles low. Somewhere in camp, someone shifts in sleep, then settles. The whole world narrows to her hands around that paper, the tremor she keeps fighting, and the gold butterflies shining at her ears.

“ ‘I grew up watching my dad tear my mom down,’ ” she continues. “ ‘Then they both turned on me. So I learned early that you don’t let people see where you’re soft. You hide it. You make yourself smaller. You hope no one notices the places they can hurt you.’ ”

My grip flexes around the hatchet handle.

Her mouth presses together before she keeps going. “ ‘When Russ came along and actually paid attention to me, I didn’t question it. I just took it. He made me feel wanted, but it always came with strings. I was always trying to prove I was worth the attention. Worth the patience. Worth staying for.’ ”

Her voice catches.

“ ‘I was never enough.’ ”

The words land like a fist in my ribs.

Her face lifts, shining in the dark, but she doesn’t stop reading. “ ‘When I got pregnant, I didn’t think I had a choice. I didn’t even think about what I wanted.’ ” She swallows and holds my stare. “ ‘Because I didn’t think it mattered.’ ”

The memory rises without permission. Her on the bleachers, young and shaking, hands curled around herself to hold all the panic in.

“ ‘But you,’ ” she says, and the words hang between us. “ ‘You didn’t try to fix me. You didn’t tell me what to do. You just stayed.’ ”

I swallow.

“ ‘You listened to me cry, and you didn’t leave.’ ” Her fingers tighten around the paper. “ ‘You were the only person who ever asked me what I wanted. Ever. And because of you, I figured it out. I went to Russ and told him I was keeping the baby. With or without him.’ ”

No hesitation now.

No doubt.

“ ‘He said he was with me. I thought that meant something.’ ”

A beat.

“ ‘It didn’t.’ ”

The woods go still enough to hear the fire breathe.

She lowers the paper a fraction and looks at me without armor. “You know the rest.”

I know the bullet. The blood. The way Russ left her in the street. The way Poppy screamed.

The paper lowers to her side.

“I thought about you,” she says softly. “All the time. Even though it felt like I wasn’t allowed to. I stayed away from you because I felt guilty. I stayed away from the one person who made me feel whole and safe.”

That hits deeper than the rest. Safe.

“I think I’ve always been drawn to you, Leon.”

The hatchet slips from my hand and lands in the grass with a dull thud.

Clair’s gaze dips to it, then back to me. “I think we do the same thing,” she says softly. “We take care of everyone else first. Poppy. The group. The kids who need protecting. The people who need someone standing between them and the worst thing coming. But somewhere along the way, I think we both forgot we were allowed to need things too.”