“I know,” I said.“I’m not asking you to.”
Her head tilted a little, suspicion clear in the angle.“Then what are you asking?”
“Nothing,” I said.“Not yet.”
“That’s not how this works,” she said.“People always want something.”
“They do,” I agreed.“But wanting and asking aren’t the same thing.”
The conversation stalled there.Willa looked at me for a long moment, her gaze moving over my face like she was trying to read the words I hadn’t spoken.Whatever she found there made her shoulders drop another fraction of an inch, her body finding a new angle against mine.
“Thank you,” she said finally.“For letting them come.For not being here when they did.”She paused.“For giving me space to figure it out.”
“I didn’t give you anything,” I said.“You took what you needed.That’s different.”
She almost smiled -- a quick, involuntary movement at the corner of her mouth.“Is it?”
“Yeah.”I brushed a strand of hair back from her face, careful not to touch her skin.“One’s about control.The other’s about respect.”
She studied me for a long moment before huffing out a quiet breath.“You really don’t doubt yourself, do you?”The words sounded more curious than critical, like she’d already realized arguing with me wouldn’t get her very far.
“I don’t doubt what I want,” I said evenly.“And right now, that’s making sure you’re taken care of.”
Her mouth twitched faintly, not quite a smile.“You make everything sound simple.”
“Doesn’t mean it is.”I leaned back slightly, giving her room even though every instinct pushed me closer.“But you haven’t eaten properly in days, and stress isn’t doing you or the babies any favors.”I tipped my chin toward the kitchen.“So first, I feed you.Then we sit down and figure out the hard part.”
“The hard part,” she repeated softly.
“What comes next.”
She went quiet again, weighing me the same way she weighed every decision since walking into the clubhouse.Finally, she nodded once.“Okay.Food first.”
It wasn’t trust.Not yet.But it wasn’t rejection either.For now, I’d take that as a win.
I kept one arm around her waist as we moved toward the kitchen -- not holding, not restricting, just present in a way that made it clear I wasn’t going anywhere.She didn’t step away.Didn’t pull back.Just walked beside me with the attention of someone navigating unfamiliar ground, one hand still resting protectively on her belly.
I gave her a moment to collect herself.The road ahead wasn’t going to be easy.There would be more moments like this one -- more tears, more anger, more of the distance she kept between herself and anything she wasn’t sure of.But for the first time since she’d walked through the gate -- maybe for the first time since the night we’d spent together -- I could see the outline of what we might become.Not there yet.Not even close.But possible, in a way it hadn’t been before.
“They’re good,” she said quietly.“The women.They made it feel like…” She trailed off, unable to find the word.
“Like you belong,” I finished for her.
She looked up at me then, surprise clear in her expression.“Yes,” she said.“How did you know?”
“Because that’s what they do,” I said simply.“It’s who they are.”
She huffed softly.“And who are you?”
It was the question I’d been waiting for since she’d walked through the gate -- not the assessment, not the calculation of what I could give her, but the direct, uncompromising demand for the truth.I met her gaze steadily, not flinching, not looking away.
“Yours,” I said.“If you want me to be.”
The words hung between us -- not a claim, not a demand, but an offer.A choice.A road she could take or leave, with no consequence either way.
She looked at me for one long moment, her gaze moving over my face like she was trying to read the words I hadn’t spoken.
Chapter Seven
