"Because Elio loves you. Obviously. Completely. He's been in love with you for weeks. Everyone can see it except apparently you." Stefan's voice was gentle. "That fight wasn't about you taking risks. It was about him being terrified of losing you."
"That's what you said last time we fought."
"And I was right then too. Elio's control issues come from fear. He lost people before. His sister was hurt by his stepfather. He spent years believing the only way to protect people was to control everything. When you took risks he couldn't control, it triggered every fear he has about loss."
"So what am I supposed to do? Just accept that he'll try to control me forever?"
"No. You set boundaries. You stand your ground. But you also understand where it's coming from." Stefan paused. "You were right to call him on it. To tell him you need agency. But he was also right that your exposure puts you in real danger. You're both right. That's why you're both so angry."
"How do we fix it?"
"You talk. Honestly. Not fighting. Actually communicating about what you both need. He needs to feel like he can protect you. You need to feel like you have agency. Find the middle ground."
"What if there isn't one?"
"There is. But you both have to be willing to look for it." Stefan stood. "Don't let pride or hurt feelings destroy something real. You love him. He loves you. That's worth fighting for. But fighting with each other isn't the same as fighting for each other."
He left me alone with those words.
I sat on the bed and thought about Elio. About the way he'd looked when I left his office. Hurt and angry and desperate.
About the things I'd said. Comparing him to my father. Accusing him of wanting control instead of love. Throwing his protection back in his face.
About the things he'd said. That I didn't understand danger. That I'd been reckless. That if I loved him I wouldn't have risked myself.
We'd both been wrong. Both been right. Both been hurt and scared and fighting from places of fear instead of love.
Stefan was right. This was worth fighting for. But not like this. Not against each other.
I needed to talk to Elio. Really talk. Not fight. Not defend. Just... talk.
But I didn't know how. Didn't know what to say. Didn't know if he'd even listen.
I picked up my phone. Turned it on for the first time in two days.
Forty-seven missed calls. Most from Elio.
Twenty-three text messages. All from Elio.
I scrolled through them.
Day 1, 8 PM:Please come back. We need to talk about this.
Day 1, 10 PM:I'm sorry for what I said. I was scared and angry and I said things I didn't mean.
Day 1, midnight:Julian please. Just tell me you're safe.
Day 2, 2 AM:I love you. I should have said it back. I was scared and stupid and I should have just said it back.
Day 2, 10 AM:I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying not to lose you. But I understand that's not the same thing.
Day 2, 3 PM:Stefan says you're okay but not talking. I'm here when you're ready. Take the time you need. I'll wait.
I stared at the messages. Read them over and over.
I love you. I should have said it back.
He'd said it. Finally. In a text message at 2 AM when he probably couldn't sleep.
