Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

A lex

The circus grounds are eerily still, the chaos from earlier finally settling into a rare moment of quiet. For the first time in days, it feels like I can breathe. But the air between Sophia and me is thick—too thick, charged with tension and the weight of everything we haven’t said. We’re standing a few feet apart, alone, away from the performers and animals. There’s no one around, and yet, it feels like the entire world is balanced on what happens next.

I glance at her, taking in the way she crosses her arms, her expression guarded, as always. I know that look—it's the same one she wore the first time I met her. She’s waiting for me to break the silence, to give her a reason to keep that distance between us. And I get it. I’ve given her plenty of reasons to keep me at arm’s length.

The weight of the past few weeks—hell, the weight of everything we’ve been through—sits heavy on my shoulders. I know I’ve hurt her. I know the secrets I kept have shattered the trust we’d started to build. But I can’t let this moment pass without telling her the truth. Not just about the investigation, but about why I stayed, why I fought so damn hard.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Sophia," I start, my voice low, uncertain at first. She looks at me, her eyes narrowing slightly, like she’s bracing for another lie. But there are no more lies. Not anymore.

“I need to explain,” I continue, my voice gaining strength. “What happened wasn’t just about the investigation. At first, it was, but... things changed. I changed. You changed me.”

Her brows furrow, but she doesn’t speak. I can tell she’s listening, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. I swallow, running a hand through my hair as I struggle to find the right words. Words I should’ve said a long time ago.

“I’m not good at this,” I confess, my voice raw. “Talking about how I feel. But you deserve to know the truth. The more time I spent with you, the more it stopped being about solving the case. It became about you. Keeping you safe. Making sure you weren’t hurt.” I pause, meeting her gaze, and I can feel the intensity of the moment weighing down on both of us.

Her arms remain crossed, but I see the flicker of something in her eyes—something softer, something more vulnerable.

“I wasn’t just doing my job, Sophia,” I continue, stepping closer, though I’m careful not to get too close. “I was protecting you because I care about you. Because I—” I stop, the words catching in my throat. But I force myself to say them. “Because I love you.”

There it is. The words hang in the air between us, heavy and real. I’ve never said them out loud before. Not like this. Not to her. Not to anyone. But I mean them. I’ve meant them for a while now, even if I couldn’t admit it.

Sophia blinks, her expression softening for just a split second before she hardens it again. I can see the battle waging inside her—the same battle I’ve been fighting. She wants to believe me, but I know she’s scared. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of letting me in.

“You lied to me,” she says finally, her voice quiet but filled with emotion. “You kept things from me. You used me to get closer to the truth.”

Her words hit me hard, but I nod. “I know. And I hate that I did that. But Sophia, you have to believe me—it wasn’t just about the case. You were never just a part of the job. I never wanted to hurt you.”

She looks away, her arms tightening around herself. “How am I supposed to trust that? How am I supposed to trust you after everything?”

I step closer, my heart pounding in my chest, but I stop just short of reaching for her. “Because I’m standing here, telling you the truth. No more secrets. No more hiding. I’m here, Sophia. For you.”

The silence stretches between us again, thick and heavy. I don’t know if she’ll push me away or if she’ll finally let me in. Her guard is still up, but I see the cracks in her armor. The part of her that wants to believe me. The part of her that’s terrified to.

She exhales a shaky breath and finally meets my gaze. “I don’t know how to do this,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve spent so long pushing people away, keeping myself safe. I don’t know how to trust you.”

Her words cut deep, but I don’t move. I let her speak because I know this is hard for her. She’s been hurt—hell, we’ve both been hurt—but this moment is about more than just me. It’s about her and what she needs to heal.

“I can’t promise I won’t mess up,” I say softly, taking another step closer. “But I can promise you this: I’m not going anywhere. I’m not giving up on us.”

She hesitates, her eyes searching mine, and for a moment, I think she’s going to pull away. But then, slowly, she uncrosses her arms. It’s a small gesture, but it feels like a breakthrough. A sign that maybe, just maybe, she’s ready to take the first step.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “But I want to try.”

It’s all I need to hear.

I close the distance between us, my hand gently brushing her arm. She doesn’t pull away this time, and the warmth of her skin against mine sends a wave of relief through me. There’s still a long road ahead, but for the first time, I feel like we’re standing on the same side of it. Together.

“Then we’ll try,” I murmur, my voice low, filled with a promise. “Together.”

She looks up at me, her eyes softening, and in that moment, I know we’ve crossed a line. The walls between us are still there, but they’re crumbling. And this—us—is just the beginning.