Chapter 45

Delia saw through herself with brutal clarity-she used to be downright awful. In her past life, abandoned by everyone, disfigured, and left to die miserably. Wasn't that exactly what she'd earned by throwing daggers at those who truly cared about her? The weight of guilt and regret gripped her heart like a vice, making it hard to breathe. Her fingers trembled slightly as they clutched the armrest of her wheelchair. She lowered her gaze and took in Curtis's straight back-like he was unaffected by it all. But how did he stand tall through attacks a thousand times worse than this... and still shield her without hesitation? The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. "Delia, let's go," Curtis said, not wanting her to face more of this mess. "Hold on, babe," Delia's voice was unusually calm. She patted his shoulder gently, signaling him to wait a second. Curtis turned to her, surprised and confused, as he watched Delia take a deep breath and slowly turn around. Her heels clicked crisply ag