TWISTED FATE (Twisted Path Book 1)

Chapter 46

Shane

Her room is quiet, save for the slow, steady rhythm of our breaths.

The glow from the Christmas lights spills softly across the walls, catching the edges of her hair, the curve of her shoulder, the faint shimmer of moisture still clinging to her skin. We didn't bother with clothes. Just dried off enough to slip beneath the warm covers, bodies pressed together, clinging to whatever time we have left before morning comes and ruins everything.

She's curled against me, skin-to-skin, her cheek resting on my chest. My arm is around her back, fingers splayed wide like I'm afraid she might slip away if I'm not careful. She hasn't said much since our shower, but she doesn't have to. Her silence feels different now—less like she's fighting to hold herself together, more like she's letting it all go.

I shift just enough to press a kiss to her temple. Her skin is warm beneath my lips, soft and familiar. And God, she smells like home—cherry and vanilla, the faintest trace of my soap, and something that's uniquely her.

I breathe her in, trying to memorize it, knowing I'll need it to carry me through the next several days.

Her fingers tighten slightly against my side, and I feel it—the flicker of sadness simmering inside her. A carbon copy of the one simmering inside me.

So I whisper the mantra that's been pounding like a war drum through my thoughts—but for her, I say it softly. "This day... this coming week apart—hell, whatever the universe throws our way—none of it gets to define us."

She doesn't move, but her breath catches just enough to let me know she's listening.

"You and me?" I murmur, brushing my thumb in slow strokes across the small of her back. "Our love is fated, pretty girl. Written in the stars, right into the night sky. Nothing can ever change that."

A beat of silence. Then another.

And then she exhales, long and slow, her body melting just a little deeper into mine. Like my words smoothed over the jagged edges of whatever was still weighing on her.

I close my eyes and hold her tighter, anchoring her to me. Anchoring myself to her. Because this quiet between us... it isn't empty. It's full of everything we both need.

For a long while, we just lie there.

The only sound is the soft hum of the space heater in the corner and the occasional shift of the blankets when Becca moves just enough to press in closer. Her skin is warm against mine. Her hand finds its way to my chest again, fingers settling over my heart like she's trying to memorize the beat.

Then, in the tiniest whisper, she says, "Talk to me."

I tilt my head to look at her, lowering my voice to match hers. "About what?"

She pauses, then swallows thickly. "Tell me what you see... our future. Give me something to hold on to while you're gone."

God.

The way she says it—like she's handing me her most fragile hope and asking me not to break it—makes my throat constrict.

So I close my eyes and pull her in a little closer, brushing my lips to the top of her head as I push down my emotions so I can speak.

"Well," I murmur, "first, we go away to college together."

She shifts slightly, her chin tilting back just enough for me to catch the flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Columbia, of course," I say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Her eyes widen. "Columbia?"