That was the problem, wasn't it? I didn't know if I could ever trust or believe him again. And worse, I didn't know if I wanted to try. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down with a bitterness that made my voice scrape against my vocal cords. "You're asking for something I can't give, Malcolm." My voice came out hoarse, exhausted, like the fight had drained everything I had left to offer. "Not after everything."
He took a step closer, cautious, like I was something fragile that might shatter if he moved too fast. Maybe I was. Maybe I had been for years now, pretending that the cracks in me didn't exist.
"I know I hurt you," he said, his voice raw and unsteady, like he was grappling with his own guilt. "I know I don't deserve your trust, but I swear to you, Ash — I won't fail you again. Not this time."
