Cane's POV
We stayed on the floor until her crying turned into quiet hiccups and shaky breaths. Her face was still pressed against my neck, warm and wet. My shirt was soaked through. My knees hurt from the hard tiles, but I didn't care. I would sit here forever if it meant she kept holding me.
Her fingers were twisted in my T-shirt like she was scared I would vanish. I wasn't going anywhere.
I pulled back just enough to see her face.
Her eyes were red, swollen, lashes stuck together with tears. She looked so tired, so broken, and still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.
I couldn't stop myself. I leaned in and kissed her. Soft at first. Just my lips on hers, tasting salt and pain.
She froze.
Then she kissed me back for one second. one tiny, desperate second before she jerked away.
"No," she whispered, voice cracking. "Cane, stop."
I didn't listen. I cupped her face with both hands and kissed her again, deeper this time.
