Chapter 100
Tristan
It's finally time to have this conversation.
The moment I've been avoiding, circling around, pretending we were both too busy for—even though the truth is simpler and uglier:
I was scared.
I am scared.
I knock before my courage can evaporate—before I think of an excuse, before I talk myself out of it, before I convince myself he deserves someone better, gentler, less… me.
The door opens almost immediately.
And there he is.
Nate stands barefoot in the doorway, wearing a loose shirt and soft shorts, curls still damp from a shower. His skin glows warm in the lantern light, and something in my chest tightens with brutal precision.
"Tristan."
He says my name softly.Like he's afraid one wrong breath might scare me off.
I swallow, unable to look away from him. He's beautiful in a way that isn't loud or intentional. Just… him.
Everything I've never been and never thought I could have.
"Can I… come in?" I ask, my voice lower than I intended.
