"Those are titles. Roles." Damian turned in her embrace so he could see her face. "But who am I when I'm not actively defending against threats? When there's no crisis to manage, no enemy to outmaneuver, no battle to fight?"
Eve's eyes searched his face. "I don't know," she said honestly. "Who do you want to be?"
The question landed like a blow.
Because Damian realized he didn't know. Hadn't thought about it. Hadn't allowed himself to think about it because there had always been something more urgent, more important, more dangerous demanding his attention.
"I don't know," he admitted quietly.
Eve's hand came up to cup his face. "Then maybe it's time to figure it out. You've spent twelve years being who you needed to be for everyone else. Maybe now you get to choose who you want to be for yourself."
"What if I don't know how?"
