At first, he thought she was just overwhelmed. Her lashes fluttered, her breathing quickened, and she leaned forward like she needed a moment to absorb what he'd said. He loosened one hand, about to brush her hair from her face, when she whispered his name again, thin, strained, wrong. The sound of it vibrated through him, cutting through the night air sharper than anything she had said before, as if her voice had frayed at the edges and he was just now hearing it tear.
For a split second he told himself she was only shaken. Anyone would be after a conversation like this. He had just asked her to tear her life in half and rebuild it with him. Of course she needed a moment. Of course she needed to breathe.
But something in the sound of her voice refused that explanation.
"Zane…"
