Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 165

Chapter 165

The words sliced her open. Enzo’s vow at the table echoed in her head. Not again. Not ever again. His hand pinning hers over the fox. Its eyes like fire.

“That’s… very Enzo,” she whispered.

“It is.”

“He doesn’t mean it.”

“I think he does. I think he hates it. But he meant it.”

She pushed herself up a little, ribs shrieking, palm braced to his chest. His blue eyes didn’t move.

“So what does that mean? For us? For him?”

“It means we keep you breathing,” Nico said, no hesitation. “It means I’m not hiding anymore.”

My heart can’t take this. It’s too much. Too fast.

Her throat burned. “What if I don’t want to choose?”

He didn’t blink.

“What if choosing feels like picking which lung to keep?” Her voice cracked. “What if it’s both or none? Because losing either of you I would kill me.”

The silence cut jagged. His eyes closed once, then opened brighter, rawer.

“You’re allowed to want both,” he said softly.

“You think?”

“I’m not lying to you. I want you. All of you. I don’t know how to share you. But when I imagine you without me–or without him- everything in me breaks.”

Her chest pulled tight. “So what then? We just circle until one of you loses?”

“No.” His voice was steel. “We bleed together. If it’s both… then it’s both.”

Never none.

Her ribs hurt as she shifted, enough to look him square in the eye. “But hear me, Nico. I will never be the reason you break. If it’s both, it’s because you and Enzo stay whole. I won’t split you apart. I won’t let this love ruin what you two are to each other.”

Something flickered in his eyes then–pain, relief, respect. Like the weight of what she’d said both gutted him and steadied him.

On screen, John Wick snapped a man’s spine over a horse.

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14:34 Wed, Oct 8

Chapter 165

“That’s not how horses work,” Nico muttered.

A wet laugh tore out of her, ribs screaming. “Pretend it is.”

“For you? Fine.”

The credits rolled, Netflix auto–loading a thousand more bullets and blood.

The door clicked.

Enzo’s stride cut through the suite, measured and lethal. He looked at them once–her tucked into Nico’s chest, Nico’s arm firm around her. The air fractured.

He didn’t speak. Just turned, jaw like stone, and walked to the hall. The hiss of the shower followed.

Her heart squeezed. “Is he mad?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Nico said. Then, quieter: “But not at you.”

“At you?”

“Always a little at me.”

God, I’m splitting in half.

“He’ll come in when he can look without breaking,” Nico said.

“Do you think he can?”

“I think he’ll try. He loves you more than he hates this.”

Her eyes closed. “What if I choose both?”

Nico bent, pressed his mouth to her hair. “Then both,” he said. “Never none.”

The shower shut off. Water dripped quiet. The door opened again.

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