The Cost of His Clean Slate

the night before he shattere

s energy in his eyes. He pulled me into his arms, his hold tight, almost desperate. It

e murmured against my hair, his ha

e knot of unease in my stomach. "Just

his expression unreadable in the dim light

ttle too quick. "This is everything

sending a familiar shiver through me. "What

like a slap. I searched his face for a hint of a joke,

?" I asked, my own voic

le not reaching his eyes. "We' ve been t

essive, territorial. He never spoke of endings, only of conquering. A coldness s

s with the care of a bomb disposal expert, "I would

d, a flicker of something-relief?-in his

that was deep and consuming, yet felt strangely hollow. It was

ftly, as if he were suggesting we order different takeout.

the floor drop out from under me, the air sucked from my lungs. T

tness I didn't feel into my voice. "O

om the floor, my movements jerky and uncoordin

atching my wrist. His grip wa

t to be on my terms. The pull of his control was