Page 42 of Thawed Gladiator: Quintus
Relief flickers across his features. He cups my face, tilting it so I can’t look away. “Then let’s choose deliberately. No more running, no more half-measures. We date. Properly. Meals together, walks, fights, and forgiveness. Whatever modern lovers do.”
“Dating,” I repeat, the word both foreign and right on my tongue. “Not some control-freak arrangement where I’m waiting for the exit.”
His thumb strokes my cheek. “Only if it’s what you want, Nicole. Never because you think it’s what I need to hear.”
“It’s what I want.” The admission is easier than I imagined. “I even extended my stay. Got up in the middle of the night and pushed the button for four more weeks. Long enough to figure out if this is real outside the bubble.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “Then I’ll consider myself the luckiest man alive.”
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, Ava’s face lighting the screen. I prop it against a pillow, and my daughter’s eyes narrow immediately.
“Mom, you look… different. Settled. Like you finally dropped the fifty-pound weight you’ve been hauling around since forever.”
“Do I?”
“You do. Your shoulders aren’t up around your ears anymore. And you’ve got that glow.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I laugh, warmth flooding me. “Quintus and I decided to try dating. For real this time.”
Her squeal nearly deafens me. “Finally! That’s progress, Mom. I’m thrilled.”
“He’s never tried to control me, Ava. Never made me smaller. I was so afraid of repeating my mistakes with your father that I couldn’t see how different this is.”
“Then what’s the plan?”
“The plan is to stay. To see where this goes. And if it doesn’t work, at least I’ll know I tried instead of sabotaging something good out of fear.”
Ava studies me for a long moment, then nods. “That’s my mom.”
When the call ends, I wander into Quintus’s small kitchen nook, where he’s already put water on for coffee. The simple domesticity makes my chest ache in the best way.
An email dings, and my breath catches. “Oh.”
“Excellent news?” Quintus asks, reading my face.
“The best. Professor Muransky wants to recommend me for accelerated graduate programs. Multiple schools are interested in my work.” I hand him my phone. “A year ago, Scott said community college was too ambitious for me.”
Quintus’s expression hardens, but his voice is steady. “He was wrong. About everything.”
“I’ll look for programs with online components or flexible residencies,” I say slowly. “That way I could be based here while finishing my degree.”
“Here at the sanctuary?”
“If it’s not too soon.”
His hand covers mine, warm and steady. “Nothing about us feels too soon. I’ve waited two thousand years for you, my love. But it must be your choice.”
That distinction—the freedom—means everything.
That night in the communal hall, I slide into the seat beside Quintus without hesitation. No nerves, no second-guessing. Just claiming my place.
The other gladiators exchange knowing smiles.
“So it is official?” Thrax asks in his careful English, gesturing between us.
“We’re dating,” I admit. Then, flushing, add, “Taking it slow. Figuring things out.”
Victor inclines his head, voice calm. “The Stoics teach that impatience ruins what could endure. A wall built too quicklycrumbles—but one laid stone by stone lasts for generations. So it is with love.”
