They stayed like that—hands clasped, both of them still bruised, both of them still here. Julie leaned in first. Marcus met her halfway. The kiss was small. Careful. Not a grand fix. But when Julie pulled back, Marcus’s forehead rested against hers for a moment, and his voice came out like a promise.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “You won’t,” Julie whispered. “Not to secrets.” Marcus let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it for months. And for the first time in a long time, the living room didn’t feel like a battlefield. It felt like a beginning.