She pushed his banyan off his right shoulder, exposing the scar in all its hideous glory. And it truly was hideous, a ghastly gouge into his muscles from ear to pectoral. She traced it with her fingertips. As if needing to assure them both that he had lived, that she saw the strength it had taken for him to be here. Now. With her. At that moment, she hated every person who had been careless with this man’s heart. Every person who had added another scar to it, whether through a steely saber or an emotional dagger. Her lips replaced her fingers on the scar, pausing to linger at the place where
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