Chapter 79. Guilty

Ainsley

Before I can shrink further into my own self-loathing—Liam moves.

Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest, his warmth pressing into my skin. The air is knocked from my lungs, not from impact of him holding me, but from sheer surprise he’s willing to touch me at all.

His hold is firm, grounding.

I stiffen for a second, unsure of how to react, but the way he holds me—solid and unwavering—chips away at the grief choking me.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed this until I feel myself sagging into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping me from crumbling.

“I’m happy you weren’t hurt,” he murmurs in my ear. “That you made it back to me.”

Tears burn at the corners of my eyes. Why isn’t he disgusted by me? Why doesn’t he hate me as much as I hate myself?

“You did what you had to.” He whispers.

I know he’s right, even if my brain refuses to