Page 92 of Not For Keeps
I reach out and brush a tear from her cheek.
“I’m not giving up on you. I’m not giving up on us. I’m going to show you that I’m here, that I’m in this for the long haul. Because I love you, Lyse. I love you so damn much.”
Her breath hitches.
“I love you so much that if you told me you wanted space, I’d give it to you. If you told me you needed time, I’d wait forever. But if you’re standing here trying to convince yourself that you don’t love me back? That we were always supposed to end? That this doesn’t mean everything?” I shake my head. “Then I’m calling bullshit.”
She covers her mouth, shoulders shaking.
“I know you’re scared,” I say, softer now. “Hell, I am, too. You’ve been through a lot, and I’d never fault you for protecting your heart. But don’t pretend this isn’t real just because it’s easier to run. Don’t lie to yourself because it hurts less than letting someone in.”
I move closer, giving her space to pull away…but she doesn’t.
“You don’t have to say anything. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. But I need you to hear this.”
I rest a hand over my heart. “If I really believed, for even a second, that you didn’t want me…that you needed me gone to be okay? I’d walk out that door and never come back. Because I love you that much, Lyse. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
A pause. Her breath is shallow, her eyes locked on mine.
“But that’s not what you want. I know it. You know it.You’re scared, not indifferent. And I can work with scared. I can meet you in the middle of it. I can sit in it with you every damn day until the fear quiets enough for the love to speak louder.”
She presses a hand to her chest, like trying to hold something in.
“So go ahead,” I say. “Build your walls. Push me away. Slam every door you think you need to. I’ll still be here. Every time. I’ll keep showing up. Until the day you let yourself believe what I already know.”
I step even closer now, until we’re just a breath apart.
“I’m gonna go home tonight,” I tell her gently. “Give you space so that you can go upstairs, take a hot bath, and listen to one of those podcasts you love so much.”
Her lips twitch, almost like a smile.
“Do whatever you need to do to feel like yourself again. I mean it.”
I let a beat pass, watching her carefully. “But I’ll be back, chula. I’ll always come back.”
I press a quick kiss to her forehead, then I step back, letting my hand trail down her arm before I turn around and walk toward the door. I walk out into the quiet night, the cold nipping at my skin, and close the door gently behind me.
Hope hums in my chest like a steady flame—because I meant every word. I’ll keep showing up. I’ll keep loving her through the fear, the silence, the uncertainty. I’ll keep choosing her, over and over again…until the day she chooses me too.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ANALYSE
Iwake up before Maya this morning. The house is still and quiet, the kind of precious silence that only exists right before the sun comes up. I slip out of bed, careful not to make a sound, and pad to the window.
Pulling back the curtain, I look out across the town. A fresh layer of snow blankets everything—rooftops, trees, streets. The sunrise is just beginning to stretch its light across the horizon, casting everything in soft gold and pale pink. It’s the kind of morning that looks like peace. Like possibility.
But inside me? It’s the opposite.
My chest feels tight. My thoughts, heavy. I press my forehead against the cool glass, hoping the chill might ground me, wake something up in me. Because no matter how beautiful it looks out there, I can’t feel it. Not really.
Outside, it’s serene. Magical even. Inside me, everything is gray. Dull. Heavy. Ugly. I wish I could matchthe beauty outside. I wish I could feel even a fraction of that brightness in my bones. But right now, all I feel is hollow.
The snow outside is pristine. Untouched. Not yet ruined by muddy boots or tire tracks. I wish I could say the same about my heart. I wish I could say the same about Maya’s. Because I don’t just have to worry about protecting myself. I have to protect her, too. And I’m so fucking scared I’m going to mess this up.
I rest my forehead against the cold window and close my eyes. My breath fogs the glass, and for a second, I pretend I’m somewhere else. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere easy. Somewhere I don’t feel this pressure clenching around my chest.
When I found out I was pregnant, I thought the scariest part would be the birth. Or the money. Or the long nights. It wasn’t. The scariest part has always been how much I love her. How much she means to me. How much I would give up, walk away from, or burn to the ground if it meant she would be okay.
