The cabin felt safe. Secure. Easy to defend. Part of me wanted to keep Stefan here permanently. Cancel his return to Inferno. Keep him locked away where threats couldn't reach him.
I caught myself planning it. Working out logistics. How long we could stay off-grid. What we'd need for a longer-term arrangement. Whether Stefan would accept permanent isolation if I explained it was for his safety.
Stefan noticed me spiraling.
"You're thinking about keeping me here," he said. Not a question. An accusation.
"What?"
"Permanently. I can see it in your face. You're working out how to keep me locked in this cabin where nothing can touch me." His voice was sharp. "Matteo, we talked about this. About the difference between protection and control."
"The threats are real—"
"I know they're real. But that doesn't mean the solution is locking me away forever." He stood. Started pacing. "This is exactly what happened with the FBI surveillance. You got scared and your first instinct was to cage me. We compromised. We found balance. But now there's a new threat and you're right back to wanting complete control."
"I'm trying to keep you safe."
"By taking away my freedom? By making decisions without me? By treating me like something that needs to be locked away instead of a partner?" Stefan's voice rose. "How is this different from what my father did? He controlled where I went. Who I saw. What I could do. Told me it was for my protection. For my own good."
The comparison stung because it was valid.
"I'm not your father—"
"Then stop acting like him!" Stefan's hands were shaking. "I love you. I chose you. I'm staying despite the threats and the danger and the fact that being with you might get me killed. But Matteo—if you lock me away to protect me, if you take away my agency and my choices because you're scared, then what's the difference? Cage is cage whether it's built from contempt or concern."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
"I don't know how to do this," I admitted. "How to love you without trying to control everything. How to keep you safe without caging you. How to—" I stopped. "I don't know how to not be terrified every second that something will take you from me."
Stefan's expression softened slightly. "You don't have to stop being scared. You just have to stop letting fear make all your decisions. Trust me. Trust that I can handle danger. Trust that I'll tell you if I need more protection instead of you just imposing it."
"And if something happens because I trusted instead of controlling? If someone gets to you because I wasn't careful enough?"
"Then that's on them. Not on you." He crossed to me. Took my hands. "You can't prevent every threat, Matteo. You can't eliminate every danger. All you can do is work with me instead of around me. Let me be part of the decisions about my own safety."
He was right. I knew he was right.
But the need to lock him away, to keep him safe at any cost, was overwhelming.
"I'm trying," I said. "But this—what I feel for you—it makes me irrational. Makes me want to burn down anyone who even looks at you wrong. Makes me want to keep you locked away where nothing can hurt you."
"I know. And honestly? Part of me wants to be locked away. Wants you to make all the decisions so I don't have to be responsible for what happens." Stefan's voice was quiet. "But that's not healthy. For either of us. We have to find a middle ground between your need to protect and my need for agency."
"How?"
"By talking. By checking in. By you asking instead of deciding." He squeezed my hands. "Can you do that? Can you try?"
"I can try." The promise felt inadequate. "But Stefan—I can't guarantee I won't slip. That I won't default to control when I get scared."
"I know. Just promise you'll try. And I'll promise to call you out when you're being too controlling. Deal?"
"Deal."
But even as I said it, I wasn't sure I could keep that promise.
The fourth day brought unexpected intimacy alongside the hard conversations.
We learned small things. Mundane details that somehow mattered more than the big declarations.
