I made it to the front door, which was still open as I’d left it.

Her voice rang out behind me as an emotional outburst. “Je t’aime.”

I’d almost crossed the threshold before her words hit me like a bullet to the bone. I stilled, replayed it in my head, and slowly turned around to regard her.

She remained where she stood, tears pouring down her cheeks. Her hands were clasped tightly together against her waist, a slight tremor to her body, the aftershock of her catharsis still making her shake.

I walked back to her, my bare feet hitting the cold stone as I approached, my eyes absorbing her appearance in a way I never had before. My hands ached for those hips. My lips yearned for her kiss. All it took was to hear the words I’d whispered to her so many times in the hope that she would say them back…and I was lost.

My hand snaked into her hair, and the instant I touched her, her face melted like that was exactly what she needed to find peace. My fingers fisted her hair tightly, and I tilted her head back to force her to look up at me. The moment I’d laid eyes on her, she was all I ever wanted, not just for the night, but my entire life. But like a shadow passing overhead, clouds promising rain, my anger approached over the horizon.

I was so angry.

Her eyes closed, as if expecting a kiss.

I never gave it.

My hand tightened in her hair and locked her in place. She’d risked her safety to march through the snow and destroy me. She’d left me without a backward glance. She’d lured me to bed and got my eyes to close, and then she stabbed me in the darkness. I gave this woman everything—and she gave me nothing.

Her eyes opened, revealing trepidation. They trembled slightly as she looked into my eyes, the fear setting in when she realized there would be no kiss, no embrace. Her words had fallen on deaf ears.

I squeezed her hair tighter, wanting to push her into the road and leave her there. My eyes burned with a hatred I couldn’t sheathe. I wanted to abandon her the way she’d abandoned me, leave her out there on her own without anyone to protect her. She’d hit me where it hurt the most—and I wanted to do the same to her.

Her hand moved to my forearm, and she gripped it like a lifeline, her cold skin melting like snow at my heat. Despite my rage, she continued to cling to me, prepared to latch on when I threw her on her ass.

That was all it took to bring me back, to change my mind in a split second. “Tu m’aimes?” You love me?

She seemed to understand me because she gave a nod.