She reaches across the table, warm fingers curling over mine.
“Rowan,” she says softly. “You’ve built your whole life on not depending on anyone. On being enough. On carrying everything alone. But now… there’s someone who sees you.”
I shake my head, tears stinging hot behind my eyes. “Hecan’t.”
“He does.” Her voice is steady as stone. “Mother. Woman. Firebrand. Mess. All of it.”
A tear slips free before I can stop it.
“Damn you,” I whisper.
Liara moves to sit beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
And I break.
All the words I’ve bitten back for days, weeks, months—falling free on a trembling breath.
“I’m tired,” I say, voice shaking. “Of being the strong one. Of having to be everything. Of pretending I don’t want more.”
Her grip tightens. “Then stop pretending.”
“I don’t know how,” I choke out.
“You let him in,” she says softly. “One step at a time.”
I press a shaking hand to my mouth.
Because gods, I want to.
I want someone who sees all of me.
Who stays.
Who chooses this mess, this fight, this stubborn heart—even when it’s easier to walk away.
And I am so damn terrified of what happens if he does.
Or worse—if he doesn’t.
The tears come harder now, raw and silent.
Liara holds me through it all.
The shop hums with rain and wood and quiet.
When the storm inside me finally stills, I lean against her shoulder, spent.
“No more running,” she says gently.
I nod.
Because some battles are worth staying for.
And I am tired of fighting alone.
That night,after Liara leaves me wrapped in a blanket and my own exhausted silence, I climb the stairs to check on Jamie.
He’s asleep, sprawled across his bed in a tangle of limbs, clutching his battered plush shark. Beside him on the nightstand lies his finished story—the final draft ofThe Green Giant,painstakingly illustrated in bright, hopeful crayon strokes.