Chapter 51 Getting back together
“Because I’m still here,” he said. “And I’m not leaving this time.”
Her heart twisted. She wanted to shut the door again, to end it before her resolve cracked. But she saw the way he shivered, how his knuckles were scraped from the cane he’d leaned on too tightly.
He had walked all the way here alone.
“Come inside,” she said at last, stepping aside. “You’ll catch your death out there.”
His shoulders dropped with relief. He didn’t move immediately, as if afraid it was a dream.
“You sure?”
She sighed. “I didn’t say I forgive you. I just don’t want a corpse on my porch.”
He nodded. “I know.”
But in his chest, something small and stubborn sparked, hope. And that made him smile small.
Because she hadn’t said no.
He stepped in. Water dripped from his coat onto the worn floorboards. The apartment smelled faintly of salt and chamomile.
He stood there, unsure, looking at her like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to breathe.
“You look tired,” he murmured.
“You look guilty,” she shot back.
He nodded once. “I am.”
They sat at her small kitchen table. The storm outside howled against the glass. She handed him a towel. He didn’t dry himself, he just stared at her, as if memorizing her face all over again.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” she said finally.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he said. “Just... let me be here.”
Sienna’s chest tightened. “You hurt me, Dante. You made me feel small when I was only trying to help you.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’ll carry that.”
“Words bruise deeper than fists,” she whispered. “You can’t take them back.”
He nodded, his voice breaking. “Then I’ll spend every day trying to heal what I broke.”
She looked at him for a long time. His hair clung to his forehead, his hands still trembling. But his eyes, those dark, steady eyes held no pride this time. Only the truth.
The rain had stopped sometime before dawn. Only the quiet sound of the sea remained, soft waves brushing against the shore outside Sienna’s small apartment.
She sat at the table, hands wrapped around a cup of tea gone cold. Dante sat across from her, silent. The space between them felt heavy, but not sharp anymore. Like a wound that still hurt, but had begun to close.
Neither spoke for a long time.
He looked different and older somehow, worn out, but calmer. His eyes weren’t filled with anger anymore. Just regret.
“You haven’t said anything,” he murmured at last.
Sienna’s gaze stayed on the cup. “There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s everything to say,” he whispered.
He hesitated before adding, “I fired everyone. Every person who had a hand in it, the spying, the lies, the leaks. They’re gone.”
She glanced at him, unsure whether to believe him. “Even Ana?”
“Especially her.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Isabelle had them all wrapped around her finger. And me too, for far too long.”
Her heart twisted at the mention of Isabelle’s name. “She won, didn’t she? She got exactly what she wanted from you and humiliated me.”
His jaw clenched. “Not anymore.”
He leaned forward slightly, voice low. “I’m done letting her decide who I am. Done letting her poison what’s good.”
Sienna stared at him. His hair was still damp, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on the table. But there was something real in his tone, a weight she hadn’t heard before.
Maybe he had changed.
Still, she couldn’t let her heart race ahead of her head. Not this time.
“You said some things,” she said quietly. “Things that can’t be unsaid.”
He nodded, eyes dark with guilt. “I know. Every word is burned into me. I said I regretted loving you because I was afraid. I thought if I pushed you away first, I wouldn’t have to watch you leave.”
He swallowed hard. “But you still did.”
Sienna’s throat tightened. “You made sure I had to.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked. “Sienna, I never learned how to love without breaking things. My mother left, my father turned cold, Luca hated me. I thought love was something that ended in pain.”
He looked down, his fingers tightening around his cane. “Then you came along. And suddenly I had something I didn’t know how to protect.”
Sienna’s eyes softened. “Then maybe it’s time we both learn.”
He looked up at her, hope flickering through the storm.
“Together?”
She nodded slowly. “Together.”
He reached for her hand, and for a second, she almost pulled away, old instincts, old fear. But then she saw the way his fingers shook, the way he hesitated like he thought he didn’t deserve to touch her.
And she let him.
His hand was cold, but familiar and real.
She could feel his pulse racing against her skin.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you can trust me again,” he said quietly. “Even if you never say you forgive me.”
“Trust isn’t a gift,” she whispered. “It’s rebuilt.”
“Then I’ll rebuild it. Brick by brick. No matter how long it takes.”
For a moment, there was only silence between them soft and fragile, but no longer empty.
“Please,forgive me” he said, as he stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” She asked, when she realized what he was doing.
“The shirt is wet and I can't stay all night wearing it. I might wake up dead in the morning.” He replied, as he finished unbuttoning his shirt revealing his chest as he removed the shirt and flung it. Sienna's throat went dry when she saw his bare arms.
Sienna licked her lips unconsciously as she watched him, she thought of how she could touch his arms, his skin and feel every inch of his bare body. She wants to lick all over him with her tongue. She wasn't even sure if it was the right time to have such thoughts.
Her relationship with the opposite sex has never gone beyond a kiss and she wasn't comfortable staying indoors with them. Was it because she didn't find them attractive? Was Dante more attractive than the boys she had dated?
She took her eyes away from his body quickly as she tore the thoughts of what she intends to do to him if given an opportunity. She couldn't understand why Dante would make her think of his body now. And she desires him more than ever. What has he done to her? From the first day he looked at her differently, he had her wrapped around his fingers. He did sexy things to her in the safehouse, maybe because he was cute and sexy with an attractive face.
Thinking about this made her realize she was beginning to get jealous of other women,like Isabelle trying to get his attention. She stole a glance at him, he was way too sexy and a lot of women would want to have him. This is something she wouldn't want to happen, she wants to be the only woman who has access to his sexy body. She shook off the thoughts of her being jealous when she was still hurting from the way he had treated her.
“What are you thinking about?” He demanded, he noticed she had been deep in thoughts and trying to avoid his gaze.
“Uhh. Nothing” she replied, smiling at him.
“Are you thinking about how sexy I look?” He asked, pulling her close to his body. She didn't resist him, she just followed his move. “Will you forgive me now?”