The three words hung in the night air, simple and devastating. I froze in Christian's arms, my body suddenly still, as if any movement might break the fragile spell of that suspended moment. He noticed my hesitation, his body tensing against mine. I felt his breath catch, waiting for an answer my throat refused to form. The words were there, pressing against my chest, begging to be set free. I loved him. Of course I did. How could I not? And yet, an inexplicable fear kept me silent—as if speaking that truth aloud would somehow make it more real, more dangerous. Instead of words, I offered action. I lifted my face and caught his lips in a kiss, trying to pour into it everything I couldn't say. My hands framed his face, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw as if trying to memorize every contour. Christian kissed me back immediately, his arms tightening around me, but I felt the subtle shift—a silent question, an almost imperceptible hesitation. When we finally pulled apart, his
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