Something in his certainty makes me ache with both longing and fear. We’ve been here before—grand declarations, solemn vows. But the world keeps dragging us back into darkness despite our best efforts to honor what we say.
“You can’t know that,” I murmur against his lips. “You can’t promise we’ll be safe, that our children will be safe. Not in this life.”
“Then we build a different one.” His kiss tastes like desperation and determination in equal measure. “Whatever it takes.”
I want to believe him. God, I want it so badly I can taste it—sharp and sweet on my tongue like blood and honey.
But experience has taught me the price of hope.
“Show me,” I challenge, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Not words, Vince. Show me this different life is possible before we bring another child into
