Page 148 of Lennox Lane

“I learned from Lavender Haze,” he joked.

“She charges, y’know,” she giggled.

“I’ll protect you and your heart at all costs, Lane. But I’ll also listen when you tell me to. I won’t make your healing another thing I take over,” Lennox let her know.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” he said, voice rough, “So much it scares me.”

“That means it matters and you’ll take this seriously,” Lane let him know.

He laughed softly and pulled her closer until her body fit against his like rest had been waiting for them both.

Outside, Stonebridge slept. The Full Plate Project stood secure, filled with flowers, paperwork, and a glowing sign that had asked a question Lane had finally been brave enough to answer. Jeanette slept somewhere clean, embarking on a second chance at life with sober hands. Cadence and KC's babies were healthy and on their way. Nova’s album was coming, and Lane couldn’t be more proud of her. Tariq was the vice president of KC’s new record label. Life was busy and chaotic, but none of that mattered when Lane lay in the arms of a man who learned how to love her without trying to own her. She circled her fingers once more over his chest, letting sleep tug at the edges of her thoughts.

“Robot?” She called.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t get weird about the girlfriend thing tomorrow,” she ordered.

“Too late,” He let her know, kissing her temple.

A few minutes later, his breathing deepened, and hers followed. Wrapped warmly in each other, they drifted toward sleep with no walls sharp enough to cut between them. Lane, who had spent most of her life bracing for the next loss, let herself rest inside the love she was no longer running from.

EPILOGUE

Lennox was sixteen when he decided love was a trap men built and women bled inside. All his life he’d been privy to his parents’ arguments, sometimes against his will and others from eavesdropping.

In the Jackson house, silence was always greatest before a storm chaos touched down. It always held a pulse of doom, with the walls carrying secrets in low voices and sharp exhalations. Doors closing too gently meant something ugly was happening behind them. His mother’s voice was strained and trembling, and it always had a way of reaching him, no matter how far he tried to get from it.

He came home from practice with his gym bag slung over one shoulder and sweat drying beneath his hoodie. His knees were sore, and his mind replayed missed shots he should’ve made. He had been thinking about basketball and college scouts—wondering if freedom might look like a court with a scholarship and his name on the back of a jersey instead of being tucked beneath his father’s legacy. Then he heard his mother crying, stopping Lennox in his tracks.

His parents were in the sitting room with the door cracked just enough for their voices to spill out and the light to cross the threshold in a thin line.

“Mielle, lower your voice,” Jason said.

“I will not lower my fucking voice,” His mother’s voice broke, gathering itself around pain. “Another woman, Jason? Another child?”

Lennox’s stomach dropped as the deja vu of the conversation played out.

His father sighed as if boredom were a reasonable response to devastation. “It’s handled.”

“Handled?” Mielle asked incredulously, “You think sending money means you handled it? You humiliate me while parading women around this city and bringing children into the world like consequences are something your accountant can file away. Yet I’m supposed to keep standing beside you smiling?”

“You’ve been standing beside me this long, why stop now?”

The words hit his mother like a cold glass of water to the face. Even at sixteen, Lennox understood cruelty, even if it was dressed in truth and twisted into a weapon.

His mother went quiet.

Jason continued his calm but vicious verbal attack. “Don’t act like you haven’t benefited from being my wife. The house. The cars. The clothes. The vacations. You get to enjoy this life and the circles you’re in because of my name, yet somehow you complain about what it costs.”

“It cost me myself,” she whispered.

Jason’s laughter made Lennox’s hands curl into fists.

“Then get a job and leave,” Jason said, “Or shut up bitching about it.”