"That's the problem." I press my hands against my face, breathing into my palms. "I thought—when I left—I thought I was doing the right thing. Protecting him. Letting him build the life he was supposed to have. And he just... didn't. He kept everything. Kept the house, kept my things, kept this space where I used to exist like maybe I'd come back and fill it again."
It's worse than knowing he missed me. He literally preserved our life and waited for me to come back so he could resume living. That's how much he loves me.
How do I handle that? How do I know thatIfucked it all up before, and I might again?
"And now you have." Naomi crosses her arms, watching me carefully. "So what's the problem?"
"The problem is I don't know what to do with that." I drop my hands, meeting her eyes. "I spent so long convincing myself I made the right choice. That leaving was better for both of us. That he'd move on and I'd move on and eventually it would stop hurting. But he didn't move on. He married someone he didn't love because his uncle asked him to and he thought I didn't want him, and he kept this house like a museum to what we used to have."
"He loves you." Naomi says it simply. "He's always loved you. What are you actually afraid of?"
Everything. I'm afraid of everything.
"His life." The words come out raw. "The things he does, the world he lives in. I've always been scared of that. Scared that one day someone's going to put a bullet in him because of what he is, what he does. Scared that I'll lose him the way Nia lost Owen, the way you could lose?—"
I cut myself off but it's too late. Naomi's expression shifts, something sharp moving behind her eyes.
"The way I could lose Nilos." She finishes for me. "That's what you were going to say."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean?—"
"No, you did." But she doesn't sound angry, just tired. "You warned me about him. Remember? When I first started at The Cracked Cask and he kept coming around. You told me exactly what kind of man he was, what kind of life he led. You told me to be careful."
"You were just getting away from Caleb." I'm defensive now, knowing I'm wrong but unable to stop. "You were vulnerable and Nilos was dangerous and I didn't want to see you get hurt."
"And yet here I am." Naomi gestures at herself. "Living with that dangerous man. Letting him be a father to my son. Building a life with him despite all the risks you warned me about. And I'm happy, Zola. Genuinely happy in a way I haven't been since before Caleb destroyed everything."
"I know." My voice cracks. "I know you are, I can see it, and I'm so glad you have that but?—"
"But you think you can't have it." She steps closer, her voice going softer. "You think that because you're scared, because the world is dangerous and people die and nothing lasts forever, you have to protect yourself. Keep everyone at arm's length. Never let yourself actually want something."
I want to argue but the words stick in my throat because she's right. She's completely right and I hate it.
"I've spent my entire life being independent." I force the words out. "My mom died and I learned that people leave, that you can't rely on anyone else to stick around. So I took care of myself. Worked multiple jobs, put myself through school, never asked for help because asking for help means admitting you need someone and needing someone means they can hurt you when they go."
"Zola—"
"And then Declan happened." I'm crying now, tears sliding hot down my cheeks. "And he was everything I was supposed to avoid. Dangerous and possessive and from a world I didn't understand. But he loved me anyway. Took care of me anyway. Made me feel safe in a way I'd never felt safe before. And when his uncle told him to choose between me and his entire future, I left because I couldn't be the reason he lost everything."
"But that wasn't your choice to make." Naomi's in front of me now, hands on my shoulders. "He wanted to choose you. He did choose you. You're the one who walked away, and he kept choosing you."
"I thought I was protecting him."
"And now?" She searches my face. "What are you protecting now? Because he's here. He's shown up every single day for weeks. He's proven he wants this, wants you and Maeve and the life you're building together. So what's stopping you from letting him in?"
Fear. Bone-deep, paralyzing fear that if I let myself have this—have him—the universe will rip it away just like it's ripped away everything else I've ever loved.
"I'm scared I'm not meant for him." The admission tastes like blood. "I'm scared his world will destroy me, that I'll lose him to violence or betrayal or just the reality of what he does. I'm scared that I'll let myself love him fully and then I'll end up like Nia, alone with a baby and a hole in my life I can never fill."
"You could walk away." Naomi says it quietly. "Pack up Maeve, move somewhere else, start over again. Keep protecting yourself from everything that might hurt you."
"I could." The thought makes my stomach turn.
"Or you could stay." She squeezes my shoulders gently. "You could stop running, stop protecting yourself from possibilities, and actually let yourself have this. Let yourself love him the way he loves you. Build something real instead of just surviving."
"What if it ends?" My voice breaks. "What if I let myself have this and then I lose him and I'm left with nothing but this massive hole where he used to be?"
"What if it doesn't end?" Naomi counters. "What if you get fifty years together? What if Maeve grows up with a father who adores her and you get to be happy? What if you let yourself have the life you actually want instead of the life you think is safe?"
