Page 191 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
We did this.
We made her feel like she had to ask. That stops now.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur.
And this time, it’s not just comfort. It’s a decision. Because I see it now. Jackson is too deep in his fear to step outside it. Elijah is too locked into control to loosen it. And if no one bridges that gap, she’s the one who pays for it.
So I will.
I’ll be the one who balances them.
I’ll be the one who pushes when they can’t.
I’ll be the one who brings her back to herself.
Because right now, that’s what she needs most.
“Come on,” I say softly, brushing my hand down her arm. “Let’s get you ready.”
She nods, a small, real smile touching her lips.
And this time, we don’t stop at the idea of it.
We follow through.
Getting her ready takes time.
Not because she can’t do it, but because every movement still pulls at the healing skin along her side, because her body is still catching up to everything it’s been forced through, because even standing for too long makes her shift slightly, makes her breathe differently, makes all three of us watch more closely than we probably should.
But we don’t stop her.
That’s the difference.
We don’t take it from her.
Jackson brings her shoes to put on instead of insisting he do it for her. I help her steady when she needs it, not before.
Elijah stays close, but he doesn’t interrupt.
It’s controlled.
Measured.
But it’s moving.
And when we finally step out of the apartment together, when the door closes behind us and the hallway stretches out ahead, it feels like something small but significant has shifted.
Security is already in place.
Two men at the building entrance.
One outside.
Another vehicle parked where it shouldn’t be if you didn’t know what you were looking for.
Elijah clocks all of it immediately.
Adjusts.
