Page 190 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
His jaw tightens.
“She doesn’t need to be out there.”
“She needs to feel like she’s alive.” I say.
That lands. I see it land. Not fully. But enough to create a crack.
I don’t push harder. Because this isn’t about forcing him. This is about making him see her.
I glance at her. And there it is. That look.
Hope.
Carefully held. Like she doesn’t trust it enough to fully reach for it.
“She needs this,” I say quietly.
Not directed. Not confrontational. Just… true.
Elijah looks at her. Really looks at her. And for a second, the control slips.
The fear shows.
The love shows.
The reason behind everything he’s doing becomes visible.
And then he pulls it back together.
“Fine.”
The word is tight. Controlled. But it’s there.
Relief moves through her instantly.
I feel it in the way her body softens, in the way she exhales like something just loosened inside her.
“We go together,” Elijah continues, already structuring it, already reclaiming control in a way he can live with. “Security stays close. We don’t go far. We don’t stay long.”
I let him have it. Because that’s how this works. He keeps control. She gets freedom. And we meet somewhere in the middle.
Jackson doesn’t argue. He’s watching her. Watching the way she reacts. And I can see it hitting him too. That understanding. That shift. That this is what she needs.
I turn back to her.
“I’ll help you get ready.”
She looks at me. Really looks at me.
And then she moves, her arms wrapping around me without hesitation, holding me in a way that isn’t careful or restrained.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
And that, that’s what breaks me.
Because she shouldn’t have to thank us for this.
My arms come around her, pulling her closer, my hand sliding up her back, holding her in a way that’s steady, grounding, intentional.
