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The word ‘deserve’ hung in the air between us. It was hard to ignore the truth in his words, and the relief that such a grant could offer was undeniable.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally said, averting my gaze.
***
“I don’t understand, Mila,” Melody wrapped another plastic bag, full of wrappers and plastic cups. “This grant thing he is offering could help a lot of people.”
“I know.” I wiped the table with a paper towerl. “But it’s not just about the money. It changes things.”
“How so?” Josie chimed in, wiping her hands on a rag.
“People might think I’ve compromised, that I’m under his influence.” The words felt like stones in my mouth. “It could undermine everything we stand for.”
Josie leaned against the wall, her expression thoughtful. “Or it could mean you’re using every resource available for your family and this community. Isn’t that what matters?”
Melody nodded in agreement. “She’s right. You’re not selling out; you’re looking out for everyone.”
I turned away from them, staring through the window at the bustling street outside, a mix of grit and determination reflected back at me.
Later that evening, I sat at our worn kitchen table, the grant paperwork spread out before me like a map to an unknown destination. Brenda had stepped out again, leaving me to juggle dinner and homework with Chad and Rachel.
“Daddy’s going to get better with this money, right?” Rachel looked up from her math book, eyes wide and trusting.
Chad piped up from his side of the table. “And we can stay at the center longer with the new babysitting thing?”
I pressed my lips together, grappling with their innocence against the backdrop of our harsh reality. They needed this—more than my pride could ever measure.
“He will have everything he needs,” I assured them, my voice stronger than I felt.
The room fell silent but for the scratch of pencils and the ticking clock.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cassius
Grunts escaped me as I hoisted the iron barbell, the plates clanking in rhythm with my strained breaths. My reflection in the wall-length mirror caught my eye between reps—veins stood out on my arms like a roadmap of my physical exertion. But it wasn’t the burn in my muscles that consumed my thoughts; it was Mila.
I set the barbell back with a clatter and wiped my brow, leaning forward, hands on my knees. My private gym was my sanctuary, a place where I could wrestle with more than just weights. I needed this time alone to make sense of the chaos Mila had introduced into my life.
“Most women don’t give you this much trouble, do they?” Stuart’s voice echoed across the gym as he walked in, towel in hand.
“They don’t,” I admitted, standing upright and grabbing a towel to pat down my face. “Mila’s different. She’s got this… resilience.”
Stuart leaned against a machine, arms crossed. “You mean she won’t take your money and fall at your feet?”
A smirk twitched at the corner of my mouth. “Exactly.” I grabbed a water bottle and took a long gulp before continuing. “She cares about things—really cares—and it’s not something you can just throw cash at to navigate or control.”
“You respect her for it,” he observed, not quite asking.
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of that truth settle in my chest. “I do.”
My workout routine resumed as we spoke, but each lift felt heavier with contemplation. I’d built walls around myself, kept relationships transactional and simple, but Mila… she scaled those walls without effort and planted her flag on territory I didn’t even know existed within me.
“I’ve never had to work this hard for someone’s trust,” I confessed as I laid down on the bench.
Stuart smirked. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
The iron felt cool against my palms as I gripped it again, steadying myself for another set. The weight was nothing compared to the burden of being unable to help her, to have her.
