Page 175 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
Elijah tracks everything that could possibly go wrong.
And somewhere inside all of that, I’ve started to feel like I’m slipping again.
Not the same way.
Not as deep.
Not as lost.
But I can feel the edges of it, the way it brushes up against me when I’m not actively holding myself together.
It’s there in the way they look at me like I might break if they let their guard down for even a second.
It’s there in the way every movement I make is answered before I even finish it, in the way I can’t reach for something without one of them already handing it to me, already adjusting it, already making sure it won’t hurt.
It should feel like care.
It does feel like care.
But it also feels like I’m being wrapped up so tightly that I can’t breathe properly inside it.
And I can’t let myself go back to that place again.
“I’m going to have a shower,” I say, pushing myself upright slowly, feeling the pull in my side but also the strength underneath it, the quiet reassurance that I am already healing, that my body is not as fragile as they think it is.
Zach is on his feet before I’ve even finished speaking.
“I’ll help you.”
“I don’t need—” The protest comes automatically, instinctive, a reflex from a part of me that doesn’t want to feel like I’ve lost control over my own body.
“I want to,” he says, softer, but there’s something in it that makes me stop.
It’s not force.
It’s not insistence.
It’s… something deeper.
Something that feels like he needs this.
And I understand that too.
So I let the rest of the resistance fall away.
“Okay.”
I don’t look directly at Elijah as I move past him, but I feel him, the weight of his attention, the low murmur of his voice as he continues speaking quietly into his phone, something about security, about timing, about things I don’t want to pull into focus right now.
I don’t want to think about that world.
Not yet.
Not when I’m still trying to find my footing in this one.
Jackson brushes past me on the other side, pressing a soft kiss to my temple as he says, “I’ll get you something to drink, sweetheart. And something light to eat when you’re done.”
I nod, letting it happen, letting all of it happen, because fighting it feels like too much effort right now.
