Chauncey
It’s quiet. Too damn quiet. Her words still hang in the air like smoke. You still haven’t said you love me. I still love Rhy. She knows it. I just… ain’t said it, not out loud, not like that. Because part of me is scared she won’t say it back.
The monitor hums steadily, almost mocking me for surviving.
I can’t even look at her. If I do… I might beg.
And begging ain’t ever been in my fucking blood—until her.
My hands flex against the sheets, trembling from something that ain’t painkillers.
This woman stood ten toes down in hellfire… and walked out stronger.
And I’m starting to realize—I might not even be part of the version of her that survived.
I thought death was the scariest thing I’d ever face.
It wasn’t.
This is.
Watching her sit ten feet away from me… knowing she meant every word when she said she’d choose herself over me. My mouth is dry as hell. My pride feels like glass cracking in my chest.
“I don’t know how to not be yours,” I say quietly.
Her eyes lift—just a little.
Surprised.
“I built my whole life around you,” I admit, voice raw. “Every car, every dollar, every war… I thought if I made the world big enough, you’d never wanna leave it.”
She swallows hard.
Says nothing.
“I just ain’t know I was supposed to give you peace too.”
That one cuts on the way out.
“And now…” I exhale, slow. “You done felt what that’s like… without me.”
Her lashes flutter once.
No denial.
My chest caves in a little more.
“I don’t wanna let you go, Rhy,” I say, quieter now. “But I can’t hold you the same way I used to… not if it’s killing you to stay.”
Silence stretches between us—thick, aching, real.
I drag in a breath that doesn’t feel like it fills anything.
“If I gotta lose you to save you…” My voice breaks, just a little. “…I’ll let you go.”
And for the first time in my life—I mean it.