– Amara's POV (Continued)
I didn't say another word as I pulled off my robe and slid into bed. The soft sheets couldn't soothe the ache in my chest. Chris… he really stayed. He didn't try to force words down my throat or plead for forgiveness.
Just silence.
He took off his jacket, folded it neatly, and placed it beside the chair. No dramatics. No sighs. Then, like he said, he lay on the floor. No blanket. No pillow. Just the cold marble and his pride folded beneath him.
For minutes, maybe hours, the room was quiet.
Until I couldn't take it anymore.
"Chris," I whispered, not turning to look.
"Yes?"
"…Are you cold?"
There was a pause. "No."
Liar.
I turned slightly, watching his outline from the bed. "Why didn't you tell me about Rheina from the beginning?"
He exhaled. "Because I was scared it would hurt you. And I didn't want anything to stain what we're building."
"What we're building or what I'm building?"
He sat up now, leaning against the side of the bed. "Us. This empire. Everything. I see you, Amara. I trust you more than I trust myself. But I'm still learning how to not fight alone."
I stared at him.
Then after a moment, I pushed the blanket aside. "Get in the bed."
He didn't move. "Are you sure?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't make me regret it."
He climbed in, slowly, carefully, like he didn't want to break the fragile peace.
I lay on my side. He lay on his back.
A few seconds passed.
"Do you hate me?" he asked.
"No," I muttered. "But I'm still mad."
He nodded.
Then, very softly, he reached out and placed his hand in mine under the covers.
I let him.
But I didn't squeeze.
Not yet.
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