And then…
You told me about Luciano. About what he did to you. How he controlled you, used you, treated you like property. You told me that, and then you turned around and did the same thing to me.
His face when I said that. The way he looked at me, but didn't see me.
I hit something. Something deep.
Good.
He deserved it. Hediddo the same thing. Maybe not as brutal, maybe not as cruel, but the pattern is the same. Control disguisedas protection. Decisions made for me instead of with me. My autonomy sacrificed on the altar of his fear.
I won't apologize for pointing that out.
A knock at the door makes me jump.
"Celeste?" Elena's voice, hesitant. "Can I come in?"
I take a breath and try to smooth my expression into something neutral. "Yes."
She opens the door slowly, like she's expecting to find something broken. When she sees me standing by the window, she relaxes slightly, but concern still creases her forehead.
"I saw Maximus leave," she says carefully. "He looked... I've never seen him look like that."
"Like what?"
"Like someone had just put a stake through his chest." She steps into the room and closes the door behind her. "What happened?"
"He benched me. Took me off all field operations because he can't handle the idea of me being in danger." The words come out bitter. "After apologizing for using me as bait. Like taking away my choices is somehow better if he feels bad about it."
Elena is quiet for a moment. She moves to the chair by the bed and sits, her posture careful and contained.
"He told the security team this morning," she says. "Julian argued with him for twenty minutes. Said you'd proven yourself, that sidelining you was a waste of your skills. Maximus wouldn't budge."
"Of course he wouldn't."
"Julian said he's never seen Maximus like this." She pauses. "He said Maximus looked like a man who was terrified of his own decisions but couldn't stop making them."
I don't want to hear this. Don't want to think about whatMaximus is feeling, don't want to consider his perspective when he refuses to consider mine.
"He doesn't get to be terrified and controlling," I say. "He doesn't get to use his fear as an excuse to take away my autonomy."
"No, he doesn't." Elena's voice is steady. "You're right about that. What he's doing isn't fair, and you have every right to be angry."
I look at her sharply, surprised by the validation.
"But," she continues, "I've known him for eight years. I've seen him make hard decisions, ruthless decisions, calculated decisions. I've never seen him make a panicked one. Until now."
"What's your point?"
"My point is that something broke in him. I don't know what, and I don't know if it can be fixed. But the man who walked out of this room just now? That wasn't the Maximus I know. That was someone drowning."
"He's drowning because I told him the truth."
"Maybe the truth was something he needed to hear." She stands, smoothing her clothes. "I'm not here to defend him. I'm here because I care about both of you, and I can see that you're both in pain. What you do with that is your choice. It should be your choice."
She moves toward the door, then pauses with her hand on the frame.
"For what it's worth," she says quietly, "I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. That doesn't make what he did right. But it might help explain why he's doing it so badly."
