Chapter 14
Chloe
“I’ve been applying to other schools,” I say, and the words feel like stones in my mouth. “Not because I want to leave. But because I’m terrified of what happens if I don’t have a backup plan.”
Jonah stands in the doorway, and I watch the light drain from his eyes. “A backup plan?”
“Jonah—”
“For when this doesn’t work out?” His voice is quiet, controlled. Too controlled. “For when you decide this isn’t what you want?”
“No. For when you decide.” The admission tears out of me. “For when you wake up and realize I’m just the nanny who got too attached. That I’m not their real mother. That you can do better.”
He stares at me like I’ve slapped him. “You think I’m going to leave you, to force you out?”
“I think people do that.” My voice breaks. “I think they promise forever and then they change their minds. I think I’m putting everything I have into this —into you, into the girls— and I have nothing to fall back on if it ends. I’ve been here before.”
“So you’re creating an exit strategy.” He leans against the doorframe, and I can see him physically withdrawing. “You’re already halfway out the door.”
“I’m protecting myself… my heart.”
“From what? From me?” His jaw clenches. “I told you I loved you. I asked you to move into my bedroom. I’ve given you everything, Chloe. What more do you need?”
“A guarantee!” The words explode out of me. “I need to know that six months from now, a year from now, you won’t wake up and realize this was a mistake. That you won’t find someone better, someone who actually belongs in your life instead of someone who just... inserted herself into it.”
“You didn’t insert yourself. I chose you. I’m choosing you.” He steps into the room, and I can see the pain etched into every line of his face. “But you’re not choosing me back, are you? You’re keeping one foot out the door, waiting for this to fail.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Isn’t it?” He gestures to the applications scattered on my bed. “You’re literally planning your escape. What am I supposed to think?”
“I’m planning for the possibility that this might not last. That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s exactly the same thing.” His voice drops, rough with emotion. “You’re so convinced I’m going to hurt you that you’re hurting us first. You’re making sure you have somewhere to run to when it gets too real, too scary.”
Tears are streaming down my face now. “You don’t understand what it’s like. To love someone this much and know you could lose everything.”
“Don’t I?” His laugh is bitter. “My wife left me, Chloe. Left me and our daughters without looking back. I know exactly what it’s like to lose everything.”
He’s saying the right things, but my head is all wrong right now. It’s twisted. It’s full of words that feel heavy and fears that seem real.
“Then how can you blame me for being scared?”
“I don’t blame you for being scared.” He runs his hand through his hair, and I can see his own eyes are wet. “I blame you for not trusting me. For not believing me when I say I’m not going anywhere.”
“How can I trust that? How can anyone trust that?”
“Because love is a choice!” His voice rises, then falls. “Every single day, it’s a choice. I choose you every morning when I wake up. I choose you when things are hard. I choose you when I’m scared. But you—you’re choosing fear over us.”
“I’m trying to be smart. Practical.” The words feel bitter. I’m shaking.
“No, you’re trying to control something you can’t control.” He takes a breath, and I can see him fighting for composure. “You can’t guarantee that we’ll work out. Neither can I. But we’re supposed to try anyway. That’s what love is.”
“What if trying isn’t enough?”
“Then we fail together.” He looks at me with so much pain in his eyes that I can barely breathe. “But at least we tried. At least we gave it everything instead of keeping something in reserve.”
I wrap my arms around myself, feeling like I’m breaking apart. “I don’t know if I can do that. Give everything and risk losing it all.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“Then we have a problem,” Jonah says finally. “Because I can’t be with someone who’s already planning to leave. I can’t keep choosing you when you won’t choose me back.”
“I do choose you—”
“Not fully. And not the way I need.” He moves toward the door, and panic floods through me.
“The twins are already in love with you. They call you ‘our Chloe.’ They drew you into their family pictures. And when you leave —because you’re going to leave, we both know that now—it’s going to destroy them. ”
“Jonah, please—”
“I have to protect them.” His voice breaks. “I have to protect myself. I can’t watch you pull away piece by piece until there’s nothing left. I can’t do that again.”
“So what are you saying?” The question comes out as a whisper.
He looks at me, and I see everything we could have been reflected in his eyes. “I’m saying maybe you should take one of those jobs. Maybe you should go before this gets any harder.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” I can’t breathe. Can’t think. “Because I’m scared?”
“I’m breaking up with you because you’re not all in.” He wipes his eyes roughly. “And I need someone who is. The twins need someone who is.”
“I love you.” The words are desperate, broken. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“I know.” His smile is sad, destroyed. “But love isn’t enough, if you don’t trust it. If you don’t trust us.”
He walks to the door, and I want to call him back. Want to tell him he’s right, that I’ll delete the applications, that I’ll choose him completely.
But the words stick in my throat.
Because he is right. I’m not all in. I’m terrified, and I’m protecting myself, and I’m destroying the best thing that’s ever happened to me because I can’t let go of my fear.
“I’ll sleep in here tonight,” I manage. “Give us both some space to think.”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t look back. “Space. Good idea.”
He closes the door behind him, and I collapse onto the bed, surrounded by job applications that suddenly feel like ashes in my hands.
I did this. I ruined this.
I let fear win.
And now I might have lost everything anyway.