Page 28 of Let it Sizzle
The words slam into me harder than any punch. Choose myself. Not live for approval. Not live for safety. Not shrink just to make someone else comfortable.
I sit there for a long moment, the weight of it settling into my bones. Then, slowly, I nod.
"I have to talk to him," I say, voice steadier now. "Byron."
Samira squeezes my hand. "Then go. Fight for yourself, Serena. For what you want. Even if it’s Levi. You’ve earned that."
It’s not easy. God, it’s not easy.
“When did you become so wise?” I ask.
She laughs. “Never underestimate little sisters. Now go talk to Byron.”
A few minutes later, I find myself driving back across town, every mile feeling like a small rebellion. Like I’m prying open the door to a life I was too scared to even admit I wanted.
Byron’s house is dark except for the porch light. His truck’s parked out front. I sit in my car for a full minute, heart thundering against my ribs, before I force myself to get out.
He opens the door before I even knock, like he was expecting me.
We stare at each other across the threshold. Me—a mess of tears and nerves and resolve. Him—arms crossed, face tight with everything he’s trying not to say.
"Can I come in?" I ask, my voice small but steady.
Byron steps aside.
I walk past him into the living room. He doesn’t sit. Neither do I.
"I know you’re angry," I start, my voice trembling. "And I’m sorry you found out the way you did. But... I’m not sorry about Levi."
Byron flinches like I hit him.
"I love him," I say, my chin lifting. "I love him more than I thought I could love anyone. And he loves me, too. He’s not using me. He’s not breaking me. He’s the one thing in my life that feels right."
Byron runs a hand through his hair, his body tight with anger and something deeper. Hurt.
"I thought I was protecting you," he mutters. "All these years, I thought—"
"I know," I interrupt, swallowing hard. "You were. You did. You kept me alive when I didn’t know how to survive. ButByron..." My voice cracks. "You have to let me live now. You have to let mechoose."
Silence falls between us, heavy and sharp.
Finally, after what feels like forever, Byron looks away. His jaw flexes. His throat works around whatever words he’s holding back.
"You really love him," he says quietly.
"I do."
He sighs, long and broken.
"I don’t like it," he admits. "But... I guess I don’t have to."
I blink, stunned.
Byron meets my eyes again, and for the first time tonight, I see my big brother in there—the one who taught me to throw a punch and pick myself up when I fell.
"I just want you to be happy, kid," he mutters. "Even if it kills me."
I laugh through the tears spilling down my cheeks.
