And Ethan.
The way he held me. The way he let me go, not out of indifference, but because he understood that love doesn't mean possession. It means choice.
I brace my forehead against the tile, steam curling around me like fog.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Not like this.
Not them.
But now, all I can think about is them. All of them. The way they orbit me. The way I orbit them. Different energies. Different needs. But no less real.
Three men.
Three very different kinds of love.
And every part of me wants all of it.
For the first time in years, I let myself imagine a future. One where I don't have to choose. One where I'm seen, protected, worshipped... and never less for wanting more.
One where I don't have to hide.
Where I don't have to be alone.
I smile to myself, the first real, unguarded smile in what feels like forever.
And I believe, truly believe, that I might finally be safe.
31
JADE
Steam swirls around me as I step out of the shower, my skin flushed and tingling from the hot water. Droplets trace cool paths down my spine as I wrap myself in a plush towel, the soft fabric clinging to my damp skin. The scent of jasmine from my body wash lingers in the air, mixing with the steam to create a cocoon of warmth and comfort.
I pad across the plush carpet, toward my closet. A flash of color on my bed catches my eye, stopping me mid-stride.
A crown of flowers.
Delicate white jasmine intertwined with small yellow blossoms, woven into a perfect circle that rests on my duvet. My breath catches in my throat as I approach, the towel clutched tightly around me.
I reach out with trembling fingers, lifting the crown gently. The petals are cool and silky against my skin, and the sweet fragrance fills my nostrils as I bring it closer.The craftsmanship is exquisite. Each flower placed with deliberate care, the stems hidden beneath ribbons of green.
Bali. The crown reminds me of Bali, when I'd spiraled into a panic attack and Mateo had appeared like a guardian angel. He'd placed a similar crown on my head, a gentle distraction from the terror clawing at my chest. His voice had been so soft, so soothing, as he'd called me "Mi Reina" for the first time.
My queen.
A smile tugs at my lips as I turn the crown in my hands. The gesture is so typically Mateo. Thoughtful, romantic, with just the right touch of playfulness. A silent signal. A promise that what we're building, whatever shape it takes, is real.
I have been thinking about how to navigate this complicated situation with the three of them, and now, with this tangible reminder of Mateo's affection, a surge of courage courses through me.
Tonight I will face all three of them together. No more hiding, no more concealing my feelings. I will stand before them, open and honest about what I want.
All of them.
My skin tingles with anticipation as I move to my closet, the flower crown still in my hand. I rifle through the hangers, searching for the perfect outfit. My fingers stop on a slip of black silk that I'd bought on a whimand never had the courage to wear. The neckline plunges dangerously low, and the hem will barely skim mid-thigh.
Perfect backdrop to the flower crown.
