Chapter 61 Don't Let Go

Chapter 61 Don't Let Go
Dalton POV

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I shook my head, closing the distance slightly. “No. I can’t leave you like this. I won’t. Not while I still have a chance to make things right.”

The rain ran into my eyes, and the mud clung to my shoes, slowing me down, but I kept moving, desperate to reach her. She’s right there, just a few feet away, soaked and shivering but still running, still defiant. I had to reach her. I had to make her understand that I wasn’t leaving, not until she knew everything, or at least until I tried.

Her pace slowed slightly as she reached a small clearing, the storm battering her from every angle. She stopped, chest heaving, and turned just enough to glare at me. The anger in her eyes burned brighter than the storm, the hurt cutting deeper than the wind.

“You think yelling at me is going to fix this?” she spat, rain dripping from her hair onto her face. “You think chasing me like this shows you care? It doesn’t. It just… it makes me hate you more!”

I froze for a second, my chest tight, words tangling in my throat. I wanted to tell her everything, but I knew now wasn’t the time for apologies. Now wasn’t the time for explanations.

And then she said the thing that made the last of my restraint snap. “Why did you let this happen, Dalton? Why didn’t you fight for me before? We were just… some… fling. Why come here, now?”

I stared at her, rain running down my face, wind tearing at our clothes, and my voice burst out, raw and shaking with everything I had kept inside: “Because I love you, Sloane. I… I can’t pretend like what we had was casual. I can’t. I can’t get you out of my head. I… I…”

The storm roared, the distance between us almost unbearable, and I realized that if I didn’t finish saying it, if I didn’t make her hear me… I might lose her forever.

I shouted, my voice cracking under the storm’s fury and my own desperation. “I know I’ve hurt you, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m not walking away. Not this time.

Tears streamed down her face now, mixing with the rain, and my chest tightened at the sight. I wanted to reach out, to hold her, to protect her from everything, the storm, the fear, the hurt, but I forced myself to stay in place, letting the words carry the weight I couldn’t.

“Sloane,” I said, voice lower now, raw, trembling. “You think I’m afraid to fight for you? I’ve been afraid, yeah. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid of losing you even more. But I can’t, won’t, hide it anymore. Because I love you. I fucking love you. Every single part of you. I can’t breathe without thinking of you. I can’t sleep without dreaming of you. You’re in my head, my heart, my soul. And I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it. And I… I need you to know that.”

Her breath caught audibly, the storm suddenly feeling smaller around us, as if our emotions had swallowed it whole. I could see the war in her eyes, anger, frustration, love, confusion, all crashing against each other.

I stepped closer, letting the rain plaster my hair to my face, my jacket soaked and heavy, but I didn’t care. I needed her to feel me, to know I was real, that I wasn’t leaving. “Sloane… please,” I whispered, voice barely audible over the rain, “just… don’t run from this.”

Her eyes met mine, wide and searching, and I saw it, the flicker of something soft, vulnerable, buried beneath the storm of her anger. I reached out slowly, hand trembling as I cupped her cheek, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. Her skin was cold, but her eyes burned with fire, and I knew in that instant that everything else, the storm, the mud, the rain, didn’t matter.

She didn’t pull away. She just stared at me, lips slightly parted, breath ragged, and that hesitation… that small, fragile permission… was all I needed.

I closed the gap between us, pressing my forehead to hers for a moment, letting the storm rage around us as we stayed there, suspended in that heartbeat. I could feel her shiver, could feel her pulse racing, and it mirrored mine perfectly.

Then I leaned in, slow, careful, giving her every chance to pull away, but she didn’t. She tilted her face up to meet mine, and our lips collided in a kiss that was half desperation, half relief, half pure, unrestrained longing. The rain drenched us, soaking through our clothes, mixing with tears, but we didn’t care. We clung to each other, tasting, feeling, knowing in every pressed heartbeat that this… this was real.

Her hands found my chest, fingers gripping the soaked fabric of my jacket, and I tightened my hold around her waist, pulling her impossibly close. Every exhale, every desperate brush of lips, was a confession, a promise, an acknowledgment of all we had lost and all we could still have.

The world narrowed to us, the storm a distant roar as our mouths and hands spoke what words could never fully convey. My lips parted hers briefly, slower this time, lingering, savoring. Her fingers threaded through my hair, tugging gently, and I groaned low in my throat, letting the sound carry all the pent-up tension, regret, and love I’d kept locked inside.

Finally, we pulled back slightly, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling, rain dripping down our faces like silver threads. I brushed a wet strand of hair from her cheek again, just to look into her eyes. “I… I love you, Sloane,” I whispered, voice raw but certain. “And I won’t let go. Not now. Not ever.”

She pressed her forehead to mine again, eyes glistening with tears and rain, and in that moment, amidst the storm, I felt it, her surrender, not to the storm, not to the chaos, but to me. To us.

And as the rain continued to pour around us, I knew that finally, finally, we were exactly where we were meant to be.

“I love you, too.”