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“Good.”

She shifted closer again. “If I’m angry with you, you don’t disappear.”

“No.”

“If we fight, you don’t decide I’m safer without you and vanish into some abandoned transport tunnel.”

“That is highly specific.”

“Because I know you.”

Fair.

“No.”

Her thumb moved against the side of my hand.

“And I’m not responsible for fixing the parts of you that still think happiness has to be earned by suffering first.”

I went still.

Talia’s expression remained calm.

“I’ll support you. But I’m not becoming responsible for dragging you back every time you retreat into that.”

I understood the distinction. “My family is my responsibility.”

“Yes.”

“I would not ask you to repair that for me.”

“I know.”

Her gaze moved over my face. Then softened.

“And I’m not choosing Ghost.”

My breath stopped.

She saw it.

“I can’t.”

“I know.” Her free hand rose to my face. “I don’t want the male who disappears and calls it protection. I don’t want the weapon.” Her palm settled against my cheek. “I want Veyr.”

Something inside me gave way. Not painfully. The opposite.

I covered her hand with mine.

“That is what I am asking.” Her thumb moved once along my cheek. Then she said, “I’m choosing you.”

I held very still.

“Not Ghost,” she added. “You.”

My pulse struck hard against my ribs.

“And you?” she asked.