[Meredith].
A quiet sound, mixed with a half laugh, escaped his lips. "No," he muttered.
I arched a brow. "That wasn't convincing." Knowing how he worries about me, I was sure he paced outside my door in concern
Draven gave me a look that was both helpless and irritated, and the tension naturally seized. Then he brushed my fingers.
"You really scared me earlier," he admitted quietly.
My chest tightened from the guilt, fear and love that tangled up. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
His hand finally took mine properly this time. "Just…" He hesitated. "If anything—anything—feels wrong, you tell me immediately."
"I will," I promised, even if I had no intention of telling him the one thing that mattered most.
I was afraid of how the truth would break a strong man like him, and I wasn't ready to watch his world collapse.
I squeezed his hand gently. "Now," I murmured, "can we stop looking so gloomy? At least until dinner?"
