“We love you,” she said bluntly. “So I’m going to say this without sugarcoating it.”
I braced.
“There are power dynamics here.”
“I know.”
“He’s wealthy,” Mel added, her eyes full of concern.
“I know.”
“He technically employs you,” Robin reminded me.
“Technically.”
“You’re living in his house,” Robin added.
“I know,” I said, irritation seeping into the edges. I knew all of these things were true.
Mel didn’t look accusatory, just protective. “That can get messy fast.”
Robin nodded. “It’s not about whether he’s good or bad. It’s about balance. If something goes wrong, he holds more cards.”
The words stung because they were true.
Eleanor’s voice was softer. “Are you choosing this?” she asked gently, “or does it feel like survival?”
I thought about the library. The bookstore. The way he held me when I cried. The way he told me I would never live like that again.
“I’m choosing it,” I said.
Mel studied my face for a long moment.
“And if you wanted to leave,” she asked quietly, “could you?”
That one sat heavier. I pictured it. Packing my books back into boxes. Walking out of that house. Starting over.
My chest tightened, but I nodded. “Yes.”
Robin exhaled. “Okay.”
Mel pointed at me. “You deserve someone who sees you as an equal.”
“He does.”
“Then make sure it stays that way,” Robin added.
Eleanor squeezed my hand. “Just don’t shrink,” she said gently. “Not for comfort. Not for love.”
I nodded. “I won’t.”
And I meant it.
Because if this was real, it had to be built on more than rescue. It had to be a partnership.
And as I sat there with my team, surrounded by women who would burn down the world for me, I realized something steady and grounding.
I could never forget who I was. They won’t let me.
