CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luca
The First Kiss
Liana had been with us for six weeks. Six weeks of watching her heal, of holding her through nightmares, of falling deeper and deeper in love with her.
We were in the garden. She'd started spending time there, said it helped her feel grounded.
I was sitting on a bench, watching her examine the roses, when she turned to me.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"Anything."
"Why haven't you kissed me?"
I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"I see the way you look at me. And I know you feel... something. So why haven't you kissed me?"
"Because you're not ready."
"What if I am?"
My heart was pounding. "Are you?"
She walked over and sat down beside me. "I don't know. But I want to find out."
"Liana—"
"I'm not asking you to fix me, Luca. I'm not asking you to make everything better. I just... I want to feel something other than fear. And when I'm with you, I do."
I looked at her, at the hope and vulnerability in her eyes.
"If I kiss you," I said slowly, "and it's too much, you tell me. Immediately. Okay?"
"Okay."
I reached up and cupped her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek.
She didn't flinch.
Slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away, I leaned in.
And I kissed her.
It was soft. Gentle. A barely-there brush of lips.
But it was everything.
When I pulled back, her eyes were closed, her breathing uneven.
"Okay?" I asked.
She opened her eyes and smiled. "More than okay."
And then she kissed me.
This time, it was deeper. More certain.
Her hands came up to my chest, fisting in my shirt, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Wow," she whispered.
"Yeah."
She laughed, and the sound was like music.
"I didn't think I'd ever feel this again," she said. "This... lightness."
"You deserve to feel it every day."
"I want to. With you."
"Liana—"
"I know it's complicated. I know I'm still healing. But I want this. I want you."
I kissed her again, pouring everything I felt into it.
And for the first time in weeks, I let myself hope.
Hope that we could have this. That we could have each other.
That love could be enough.