"We're free," I correct, pulling her closer.
She smiles, and it's like the sun breaking through clouds.
31
IVY
Being Enough
The keys are cold in my palm.
I stare at them, these small pieces of metal that represent something I never thought I'd own at twenty-six.
My apartment.
Not a rental. Not temporary. Not a house that the landlord can suddenly cancel the lease.
Mine.
Everything has been splendid lately. My publication was accepted by the Journal of Sports Medicine and Biomechanics. I’ve been shortlisted as a finalist in the Young Researchers Award. And now, I have a place of my own.
"Are you going to stand in the hallway all day?" Declan's voice is warm behind me, his hand settling on my lower back. "Or are you going to open the door, Doc?"
My fingers tremble as I slide the key into the lock. The click echoes in the empty hallway, and I push the door open.
Hardwood floors stretch across an open living space bathed in afternoon sunlight. The kitchen is small but functional, with granite countertops I spent weeks agonizing over. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city. For the first time in my life, the view belongs to me.
"It's really mine," I whisper.
Declan steps inside, his presence filling the empty space. He's wearing dark jeans and a gray Henley that stretches across his shoulders, and when he turns to look at me, those green eyes are soft.
"It's really yours." He takes the box I'm carrying and sets it down. "You did this, Ivy. Not your parents' money. Not Marcus. You."
The words lodge somewhere behind my ribs.
A few weeks ago, I would have deflected. Found a way to minimize the achievement, to make myself smaller. But Declan taught me something about taking up space.
"You helped with the investment advice and the financial planning," I say.
"I gave you information. You made the decisions." He crosses to the windows, hands in his pockets. "That retirement account you opened? The diversified portfolio? That was all you, sweetheart. I just pointed you in the right direction."
I follow him, stopping close enough to catch the scent of his cologne mixed with his unique scent. My reflection in the window shows a woman I'm still getting used to. Confident posture. Fitted dress instead of oversized cardigan. Eyes that don't look away anymore.
"I never thought I'd be good with money," I admit. "Numbers on a spreadsheet felt different from biomechanics equations."
"Because you told yourself you weren't good at it." He turns, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "But you're brilliant in every way that matters, Ivy. You just needed to stop listening to the voice that said otherwise."
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Dr. O'Connell's name flashes on the screen, and my heart kicks into overdrive.
"It's Maya." My voice sounds distant even to my own ears. "She said she'd call after the conference committee meeting."
Declan's warm, steady hand finds mine.
"Then answer it."
I swipe to accept the call, putting it on speaker with shaking hands.
"Dr. O'Connell."
