She leaned into his warmth and let the tears come, filled with disappointment and frustration and the knowledge that she’d ruined everything and she might never be able to right it. He let her cry, murmuring softly, soothing her, promising her all would be well. And she let herself believe, for a heartbeat of time, that his comfort was more than fleeting. He was so warm. So warm and so welcome, if she didn’t know better, she’d think he felt like home. Until she remembered that he wasn’t. That he’d never be.
