Chapter 19
Tessa
The shop feels different after he leaves.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Like the air is holding its breath.
I stand there, staring at the door long after it closes.
This isn’t over.
The words echo.
Cold.
Certain.
My arms wrap around myself before I even realize it.
Like I can hold the fear in place.
“Tessa.”
Ace’s voice is low.
Close.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically.
He doesn’t answer.
Doesn’t argue.
Just waits.
And somehow—
That makes it worse.
“I’ve handled worse,” I add softly.
“Yeah,” he says. “You have.”
Something in his tone tightens my chest.
Not doubt.
Understanding.
And that’s harder to face.
Slowly, I turn.
He’s watching me.
Steady.
Not trying to fix it.
Just there.
“He hasn’t changed,” I admit.
“He didn’t deny it.”
Ace’s jaw shifts.
“Guys like him don’t. Not unless they have to.”
My stomach twists.
“I remember that night,” I say quietly. “Pieces of it.”
My arms tighten around myself.
“I remember him being there. Calm. Talking. Like it was nothing.”
My voice cracks.
“I thought he was helping.”
“He was,” Ace says. “Just not you.”
The truth hits hard.
“I don’t understand how someone does that,” I whisper.
“They protect what matters to them,” he says.
“Themselves.”
“Yeah.”
Silence stretches again.
“He’s not going to stop,” I say.
“No.”
Fear curls deep in my chest.
“What else is he going to try to take?”
Ace steps closer.
“He’s not taking anything else.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
My breath catches.
“You can’t promise that.”
“No. But I can promise you won’t face it alone.”
Something inside me softens.
“I don’t want you pulled into this,” I say. “He’s not just anyone.”
“I know exactly who he is,” Ace says.
“And I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
The certainty in his voice shakes me.
Because I want to believe it.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit.
“Do what?”
“Trust someone. Let them stay.”
His expression softens.
“You don’t have to figure that out tonight.”
A small breath escapes me.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
A faint smile touches my lips.
“I meant what I said. You should leave.”
“No.”
I blink.
“You’re not even going to pretend?”
“Nope.”
A small laugh slips out.
“You’re stubborn.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
My smile fades slowly.
“He’s going to come after this.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re still staying?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He holds my gaze.
“Because you’re worth it.”
My breath catches.
No one has ever said that to me.
Not like that.
Not and meant it.
“Okay,” I whisper.
One word.
But it feels like everything.
He nods.
Like it’s enough.
Like I’m enough.
Sunlight spills through the windows.
Chasing shadows.
But not the danger.
Not yet.
Still—
For the first time—
I don’t feel alone.
“I’m going to pick wildflowers,” I say softly. “Do you want to come?”
He holds out his hand.
“Yeah.”