Sara melted into the kiss, her hesitation breaking like fragile glass beneath my touch. Her fingers clenched the fabric of my shirt, as if grounding herself in the reality of what was happening.
But there was no going back.
I deepened the kiss, claiming her, making sure she understood that this was more than a fleeting moment—it was a choice. A surrender.
And she had just given herself to me.
When we finally broke apart, her breath was ragged, her eyes clouded with something she didn't want to name.
"This is wrong," she whispered, her voice shaking.
I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Then why aren't you stopping me?"
Silence.
She had no answer. Because she knew the truth—some part of her wanted this just as much as I did.
I stepped back, letting her breathe. I didn't need to rush this. I had already won.
"Go to sleep, Sara," I murmured, brushing a thumb over her bottom lip. "We have all the time in the world."
She swallowed hard. "You're leaving?"
I smirked. "For now."
She didn't ask how I got in. She didn't ask where I was going. And she didn't ask the most important question—when I'd be back.
Because deep down, she already knew the answer.
I was never really gone.