She still faced forward, staring out the windshield at the dark river. Her reflection in the glass looked ghostly.
"I’ve spent two years trying to be perfect for Mother. For the company. For the brand. I rebuilt myself after Father died into soone who could handle quarterly reports and brand partnerships and budget etings with executives three tis my age. I color-coded my emotions because feeling them was inefficient. I scheduled my breakdowns because spontaneous crying wastes ti."
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel even though the car was off.
"And then you showed up and ruined everything. You questioned my strategies. You challenged my mother to her face. You looked at like I was a person instead of the Valentine brand personified. And yesterday, when I asked you what I wanted for myself, you didn’t tell to think about the company. You didn’t remind about responsibilities. You just waited for my answer like it actually mattered."
She turned slightly. I could see her profile in the dim light from the dashboard.
"Nobody’s ever done that before. Nobody’s ever cared what I wanted separate from what was best for Valentine Holdings or best for the family or best for market positioning. But you asked. And when I said I didn’t want you as my assistant, you said okay. Like it was that simple."
Her voice dropped lower.
"I’m terrified of you, Isaiah. Because when I’m with you, I forget I’m supposed to be perfect. I forget about quarterly projections and brand alignnt. I just want to sit in a bathroom stall and kiss you until I can’t rember my own na. And that’s dangerous. That’s the kind of wanting that destroys carefully constructed lives."
She finally looked back at properly.
"But I want it anyway. I want you anyway. Even though it’s the worst possible idea I’ve ever had."
The car was suffocating. The air had turned thick and heavy and I couldn’t get enough oxygen.
Four confessions. Four girls. One complete disaster of a night.
I opened my mouth.
"I can’t."
The words ca out flat. Dead.
Harlow made a small wounded sound.
I forced myself to continue. "I appreciate it. Everything you just said. All of you. But I can’t do this right now. It’s too much of a risk."
"Risk?" Cassidy’s voice went sharp. "What risk?"
"Iris." I turned to look at her in the backseat. "My sister. She’s fourteen and she needs stability. Not getting fired because I hooked up with my bosses. Not scrambling to find new work because your mother destroyed my reputation. Not losing the ten thousand a month that’s paying for her food and her school supplies and the Hartwell application fee."
I looked between them, needing them to understand.
"If this goes wrong, I lose everything. And I can’t afford that."
"So you’re just going to say no?" Cassidy demanded. "We all just told you how we feel and you’re shutting us down because you might lose your job?"
"Yes."
"That’s bullshit!"
"It’s reality."
"No." Cassidy leaned forward between the seats, her face close to mine. "It’s you deciding you don’t deserve to be happy. It’s you deciding that Iris’s future is more important than your present. It’s you being a martyr again."
"I’m not being a martyr. I’m being practical."
"You’re being a coward."
That landed hard enough to hurt.
"Cassidy—" Vivienne started.
"No. He needs to hear this." Cassidy’s purple eyes blazed in the dark. "You’ve spent your whole life taking care of other people. Your mom dumped you and Iris and you just handled it. You work two jobs and commute five hours a day and raise a teenager by yourself and you never complain. You never ask for help. You never do anything for yourself because you’ve decided you don’t deserve it."
Her hand grabbed my collar.
"But guess what? You do deserve it. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have people who care about you. You deserve to kiss girls who want to kiss you back without calculating the financial implications first. And if you can’t see that, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought."
"Cassidy." Vivienne’s tone carried a warning now.
Cassidy ignored her. "We’re offering you sothing here. All of us. Together. And you’re saying no because you’re scared."
"I’m not scared."
"You’re terrified!" She shook slightly. "You’re scared that if you let yourself want sothing, it’ll get taken away. Just like your dad left and your mom left and everyone leaves so why bother wanting anything at all?"
She was breathing hard now. Her eyes were wet.
"But we’re not leaving, you dumbass. We’re right here. All four of us. Telling you that you matter. That you’re worth it. And you’re still saying no."
I looked at Harlow next. Her expression had crumpled. She hugged the teddy bear I’d given her against her chest like it could protect her heart.
Sabrina watched with those unreadable eyes. Waiting.
Vivienne gripped the steering wheel hard enough that her knuckles went white.
They’d all just laid themselves bare. Made themselves vulnerable in ways that probably terrified them. And I was about to break all their hearts because I had rent to pay and a sister to protect.
"I’m sorry." My voice ca out rougher than I wanted. "But the answer is still no. Not right now. I can’t risk what I’ve built for Iris. I just can’t."
Harlow turned to face the window. Her shoulders shook slightly.
Cassidy’s hand fell away from my collar. She sat back hard enough that the seat groaned.
Sabrina closed her book with a soft snap.
Vivienne started the car without a word.
The drive back to my apartnt took fifteen minutes that felt like hours. Nobody spoke. The radio stayed off. The only sounds were the engine and the occasional car passing in the opposite direction.
When Vivienne pulled up outside my building, I reached for the door handle.
"Wait." Her voice stopped .
I waited.
"We understand," she said to the windshield. "We don’t like it. But we understand."
"Thank you."
"Don’t thank ." She finally looked at , and her eyes were hard. "Thank us by not throwing your life away because you’re too proud to accept help. Thank us by taking care of yourself for once. Thank us by rembering that we ant every word we said tonight, even if you’re not ready to hear it."
I nodded. Words felt impossible.
I got out of the car. Walked toward my building. Took the stairs instead of the elevator because I needed the ti to put myself back together.
When I opened the apartnt door, Iris was asleep on the couch. Diana sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea, looking up as I entered.
"You’re late," she observed.
"Work ran long."
"Work." She smiled slightly. "Is that what we’re calling it?"
I ignored that. "I’m going to bed. You should too."
"Isaiah—"
"Don’t talk to ."
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