She’s growing. Glowing. –Elias
Elias
It started with her laugh.
Or maybe it was the way she made someone else laugh.
I was half-dozing on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through my phone with the TV muted.
It had been three days since I’d stepped outside.
Three days of forced rest, a cast I already hated, and being banned from doing anything “fun” that might risk healing wrong.
Saint Alex’s orders.
I would’ve killed for a distraction.
That’s when I heard her voice, sharp, clear, confident. drifting from the study.
“Technically, that’s not wrong,” she was saying, in crisp, easy English, “but it does make it sound like you’re flirting with your boss’s wife.”
Pause.
Then she added dryly, “Unless that’s your actual goal, in which case, good luck.”
A burst of laughter came through the speaker on the other end.
I paused.
She didn’t sound like the girl I’d first met. Not even like the girl I held last night.
She sounded… like a teacher. A real one.
Someone who knew what she was doing.
I set my phone down and stood up without thinking, walking toward the sound.
The study door was ajar.
She sat cross-legged in her desk chair, totally immersed in her lesson.
Eyes alert, hand gesturing lightly when she emphasized a grammar point.
Her voice was steady, patient, with that hint of dry humor she never used in public.
There were notes everywhere.
Color-coded sticky tabs along the edge of her notebook.
A small corkboard with index cards pinned in neat rows.
Her handwriting—slanted, tight, controlled—on a page labeled “Trial Class Strategy.”
She wasn’t fumbling her way through this.
She was building something.
She finished the explanation, then slipped into Mandarin with seamless ease to clarify a confusing point. She was gentle but clear, firm but kind.
I leaned against the doorframe. And just watched.
For the first time, I wasn’t thinking about how far she’d come since the night I carried her out of hell.
I was thinking about how far she was going to go from here.
She was no longer surviving.
She was living.
Liana
I felt his eyes before I saw him.
The moment I hit “End Meeting”, I turned and found Elias standing in the doorway, smirking.
My cheeks went hot. “How long were you there?”
He crossed his arms, well, one arm
and leaned his good shoulder against the doorframe.
“Long enough to hear your terrible joke.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That was a pedagogically effective humor cue.”
“Sure it was.”
He walked over, slow and steady, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“You looked amazing,” he murmured. “Like you owned the room.”
I turned my face away, suddenly shy.
But inside, I was glowing.
Elias
She started tidying up, muttering about back-to-back lessons and needing to prep for the weekend.
I watched her move.
The way she tucked her hair behind her ear.
The way she glanced at her planner like her whole day had structure.
The way her shoulders didn’t curl inward anymore.
And I thought:
What happens when she doesn’t need me anymore?
What happens when she’s teaching a hundred students, running her own business, living on her own terms?
What happens when I’m just the guy who once held her while she healed?
I caught myself before the thought could spiral.
Shook my head.
“Shut the fuck up, Wolfe. You don’t love her so she’ll stay small. You love her so she’ll fly.”
And damn if she wasn’t already doing it.
