Which was exactly what worried me. That same determination, turned toward solstice, could break her.
I’m scared, she admitted, her voice small. Of failing. Of losing any of you. Of not being… enough for what’s coming.
I moved from the chair to sit beside her on the bed. My hand found hers—warm, steady, and grounding for both of us.
Stop framing love like a resource you’re consuming, I said. You’re not taking too much. You’re not asking for more than we can give. We’re here because we choose to be.
But what if—
No. My certainty cut through her spiraling. I’d seen this pattern before and knew where it led. We set boundaries if something’s wrong. We say it out loud instead of silently rotting. But you don’t get to decide for us that we’re sacrificing too much by being here.
Elio crossed from the couch, settling on her other side. The three of us formed a bracket around her—a physical reminder that she wasn’t isolated. Echo’s scales glowed soft blue-green.
No more testing, Elio said. You don’t have to keep checking if I’ll slip back into performance mode. That version of me is gone. I choose you, and I choose us—publicly and privately. Not because it’s strategic. Because it’s real.
His hand found her shoulder, solid and certain.
I’m not going to wake up one day and decide this was a mistake, he continued. I’m not going to revert to manipulation when things get hard. I’ve proven that through behavior, not words. So stop waiting for me to fail.
She looked at Cyrus. He’d been quiet, watching the conversation unfold from his position near the door.
And you? she asked. Are you going to tell me I’m being ridiculous too?
No. He moved closer, crossing back to where we sat. I’m going to tell you I’m in. Fully. Not ‘trying.’ Not ‘learning to share.’ Just in.
Something shifted in the room. I felt it like dimensional pressure equalizing. Like a ward settling into place.
I’m done fighting what this is, Cyrus continued. Done trying to possess you because I’m scared of losing you. Done treating the fact that you need all three of us like it’s a problem to solve instead of just… how you’re built.
He knelt deliberately, lowering his height to her seated level to remove all threat, not assert control. He was offering a fixed point she could orient around.
I’m not leaving, he said simply. And you don’t have to manage me. Don’t have to make yourself smaller or quieter or less to make this easier for me to handle. I can handle all of you. I want all of you.
The words were like an anchor—something fixed and immovable.
I’m greedy, Marigold whispered, still braced for rejection. I want all three of you… She paused before looking up, her voice firmer. And I’m done apologizing for that.
It’s not too much, I said firmly. It’s honest.
I’d spent months being steady and reliable, the one who held things together when everything else fractured.
But I’d realized something over those months. Steady wasn’t the same as choosing. Dependability could be mistaken for obligation. Consistency could look like duty rather than desire.
And she needed to hear me choose her—not just demonstrate it through reliable behavior. She needed the words, so I’d give them to her.
I’m here because I want to be, I said. Not because you need me. Not because it’s the right thing to do. Because I choose this. Choose you. Choose us.
I looked at her directly, making sure she saw my certainty.
Every morning I wake up and choose this again, I continued. That’s not obligation. That’s not me being steady and dependable and doing my duty. That’s me actively wanting you in my life.
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
We chose this, Elio added. Knowing exactly what it meant. You’re not trapping us. We’re staying because we want to.
Because we love you, Cyrus finished, simple and certain.
I watched her look at each of us in turn—cataloging, measuring, still checking whether this was real.
