Page 133 of Honeyfires

"What did she say?"

"That I better not fuck this up."

A small smile crossed her face. "She likes you. That's her way of showing it."

"By threatening me?"

"By caring enough to threaten you." She opened her eyes, turned to look at me. "She's protective. Always has been."

"She said the board is putting pressure on Henry. About the negative attention."

Vera's expression tightened. "Yeah. That's... that's been mentioned."

"Mentioned how?"

She was quiet for a moment, and I felt dread pooling in my stomach. "He called me into his office after the reporters left. Suggested I might want to 'distance myself' from you until this blows over."

I nearly swerved off the road. "He what?"

"Not break up," she said quickly. "Just... tone it down. Be less public about it. Don't give them anything else to write about."

"Vera—"

"I told him no." Her voice was firm. "I told him my personal life is my personal life, and it doesn't affect my work."

"But it does. It is affecting your work. There were reporters outside your workplace. Your board is concerned. Your boss is asking you to hide our relationship."

"He's not asking me to hide it. He's asking me to be strategic about it." She squeezed my hand. "And I told him I'm not interested in being strategic. I'm interested in living my life authentically, with the person I love, regardless of what strangers think about it."

God, I loved her. Loved her so much it hurt. But that love came with responsibilities, with consequences, with the weight of knowing that my choices affected her in ways I couldn't control.

"If your job is at risk because of me—" I started.

"It's not."

"But it could be."

"I don't care."

"I do." I pulled into our apartment complex, parked, and turned to face her. "I won't let you lose your job because you're with me. I won't let your career suffer because I made a decision on a ridge that day."

"You don't get to make that choice." Her eyes flashed, fierce and unyielding. "I'm not leaving you, Petra. Not for my job, not for the board, not for Henry or the reporters or anyone else. We're in this together. That's what being in love means."

"It means watching you suffer because of me? Watching your peace get destroyed? Watching strangers dissect our relationship like it's entertainment?" My voice cracked. "How is that love, Vera? How is that anything but selfish?"

She reached over, cupped my face in her hands, and forced me to look at her. "It's love because I choose it. Every day, knowing the risks, knowing the difficulties, knowing that being with you means facing things I'd never have to face alone. And I still choose you. Because you're worth it, Petra. You're worth every difficult conversation with my boss, every reporter's question, every uncomfortable moment. You're worth it."

I wanted to believe her, wanted to trust that this would all work out, that we could weather this storm together. But the fear was so loud, drowning out everything else.

"What if it gets worse?" I whispered.

"Then we handle it together." She leaned forward, pressed her forehead to mine. "You're not allowed to push me away to protect me. That's not how this works."

"How does it work?"

"We face it together. The good and the bad and the absolutely terrible. All of it, Petra. Together."

I closed my eyes, breathing her in, trying to find strength in her certainty when I had none of my own. "I don't deserve you."