Chapter 35 — Conversations That Change Everything
"Do you ever feel like things are… shifting?" Kiera asked quietly.
They were in the kitchen again. It always seemed to be the kitchen lately—late nights, soft lights, conversations that crept up on them when they weren't prepared.
Kade looked up from the counter. "Shifting how?"
"Like the ground isn't where it used to be," she said. "And you're not sure if that's a good thing or a dangerous one."
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "I feel that every day."
She smiled faintly. "You don't look like someone who likes uncertainty."
"I don't," he admitted. "But I'm learning to sit with it."
She tilted her head. "Because of me?"
"Because of us," he corrected gently.
The word lingered.
Kiera cleared her throat. "We should probably talk about… boundaries."
Kade nodded immediately. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"You were?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes," he said. "Because not talking about them feels dishonest."
She exhaled. "Okay. Good. Then I'll go first."
"Go ahead."
She folded her arms—not defensively, just grounding herself. "I care about you. More than I expected. And that scares me."
"That makes two of us," he said softly.
"But I can't afford to get lost in someone else again," she continued. "I've done that my whole life."
"I don't want you to lose yourself," he said quickly. "Ever."
"I know," she said. "But feelings don't always listen to logic."
He smiled faintly. "That's an understatement."
"So," she went on, "I need space to grow. To figure out who I am outside survival."
"And school," he added.
"And school," she agreed. "That too."
He nodded. "Then let me say my part."
She gestured. "I'm listening."
"I don't want to rush you," he said. "I don't want to claim you. I don't want to own your healing."
Her eyes softened. "That's… refreshing."
"But," he continued, "I also won't pretend I don't feel something. Or lie about the fact that I'm drawn to you."
Her heart thudded. "So where does that leave us?"
He shrugged lightly. "Honest. Careful. Present."
She smiled. "Those are good words."
"They're hard ones," he replied.
The next day, Kiera met her sister again.
"You look different," her sister said the moment they sat down.
Kiera frowned. "Different how?"
"Calmer," she said. "And also… distracted."
Kiera laughed nervously. "Is it that obvious?"
"Try glaring into your coffee less," her sister teased. "What's going on?"
"There's this man," Kiera began.
Her sister groaned. "Of course there is."
"He's not just a man," Kiera said quickly. "He's my boss."
Her sister froze. "Kiera—"
"Before you panic," Kiera rushed, "nothing has happened. And we're being careful."
Her sister studied her. "Do you like him?"
"Yes," Kiera admitted. "And that's the problem."
"Why?"
"Because he's kind," she said softly. "And patient. And he sees me."
Her sister reached across the table, squeezing her hand. "You deserve that."
"I don't know how to trust it," Kiera whispered.
"You don't have to trust forever," her sister said. "Just today."
Kiera swallowed. "I'm afraid of losing myself again."
"Then don't," her sister replied. "Set rules. Speak up. Walk away if you need to."
Kiera nodded slowly. "I think I'm learning how."
That evening, Leo was unusually quiet.
"Kiera," he said suddenly, "are you going to leave?"
She froze mid-step. "Why would you think that?"
"People always leave," he said matter-of-factly. "Dad's girlfriends do."
Her chest tightened. "I'm not planning to."
"Promise?" he asked.
She crouched to his level. "I can't promise forever. But I can promise I'm here right now."
He considered that. "Okay."
Later, Kade found her sitting on Leo's bed, staring at the door after Leo fell asleep.
"He asked if you'd leave," Kade said quietly.
She nodded. "I answered honestly."
"Thank you," he said. "For not lying to him."
"I'd never do that," she replied. "He deserves better."
"So do you," he said.
She turned to him. "Do you ever worry I'll leave?"
He didn't dodge the question. "Yes."
"And?" she prompted.
"And I won't trap you to stop it," he said. "If you choose to go, I'll let you."
Her eyes shimmered. "That's terrifying."
"It is," he agreed. "But it's also respect."
She stood, stepping closer. "I'm not leaving."
"I know," he said. "But hearing it still helps."
They stood inches apart, breath mingling, the air charged.
Kiera broke the tension first. "We should probably not stand this close."
"Probably," he agreed—but neither moved.
She laughed nervously. "You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"Looking at me like you're about to forget every rule you just agreed to."
He smiled slowly. "I haven't forgotten. I'm just… aware."
"Of what?"
"Of how much restraint this takes," he said honestly.
Her pulse raced. "Then maybe we should step back."
He nodded and did—immediately. "Thank you for saying it."
"Thank you for listening," she replied.
Later that night, Kade received a message from Vivienne.
You think she'll save you. She won't.
He stared at the screen, then typed back.
I'm not asking her to.
He turned off his phone and went to the balcony, breathing in the night air.
Behind him, the door slid open.
"Kade?" Kiera asked.
He turned. "Can't sleep either?"
She shook her head. "Too many thoughts."
"Same."
She leaned on the railing beside him. "Do you think this—whatever this is—is worth the risk?"
He looked at her, really looked at her. "Yes."
"Even if it hurts?"
"Especially then," he said. "Because at least it'll be real."
She smiled softly. "I've never had 'real' before."
"You're having it now," he said. "One conversation at a time."
She nodded. "Then let's keep talking."
He extended his pinky jokingly. "Deal?"
She laughed and hooked hers with his. "Deal."
It wasn't a kiss.
It wasn't a confession.
But it was a promise of honesty.
And sometimes, that was more powerful than love itself.