16. Rena
Rena
Caleb finds me at the overlook in the fading afternoon light.
"Tomorrow's the council meeting," I say. "It’s the final decision on my contract."
"Then we fight back," he says immediately. "I'll attend, make a statement, document every instance where your oversight prevented problems."
"You can't keep fighting my battles for me, Caleb. Eventually that's going to cost you more than you're willing to pay."
"Let me worry about what I'm willing to pay. You're worth fighting for."
I lean into him. "I've been thinking about what you said.
About staying, building something instead of always chasing the next temporary assignment.
I'm scared, Caleb. Scared of failing, of putting down roots that get torn up, of depending on this and having it disappear the way everything else eventually does. "
"What are you scared of more? Trying and failing, or never trying at all?"
The question strips away the rationalizations and leaves me facing the core fear that's been driving my decisions for years. "I'm scared of needing you," I whisper. "Of building a life here that only works if you're in it."
His hand cups my face. "I'm not leaving. Not when things get hard, not when you panic. I can't promise nothing bad will ever happen. But I can promise I'll choose you every day."
"What if I stay and it doesn't work out?"
"Then at least you'll know you tried. At least you'll know you were brave enough to risk something instead of always choosing safety."
I close my eyes, feeling tears threaten for the first time in weeks. "I don't want to leave. I want to stay. I'm just so scared of wanting it too much."
"Want it anyway," he urges, pulling me closer. "That's how you know it matters."
I press my face against his chest and let myself cry for the first time in months, all the fear and want pouring out. He holds me through it.
"Okay," I finally say, voice rough but steady. "I'll stay. I'll try. I'll figure out how to build a business here, how to be the person who doesn't run."
His arms tighten around me. "Tomorrow's going to be hard. The council meeting, whatever they decide."
"I know. But we'll face it together."
Later, we don't talk about tomorrow. We cook dinner together, moving around the kitchen with the easy synchronization of people who've learned each other's rhythms, and for once I don't think about exit strategies. I just let myself be here, fully present.
Tomorrow will bring whatever it brings. But tonight, I'm choosing love over fear.