NORA’S POV

“I’m sorry,” Derek repeated, his voice low and rough. He covered his face with one hand, still staring at the ceiling for a while before letting out a deep breath. Then he sat up, looking like someone who was trying to gather all the courage left in him to face something long buried.

I knew he wanted to talk about what happened six years ago.

He reached for my hands and held them, his palms warm but slightly shaking. I looked at him, and in that moment, I saw the man who had ...