Page 107 of For the Plot

I wanted to fight it. God, I did. Because I knew what it would cost. And I knew I didn’t deserve you. But I wanted you anyway.

I wanted you in my office and in my home and in my bed and in my life. And I still do. I was a coward. I let fear win.

I let the guilt I carry for all the ways I failed Archer twist into shame that kept me from choosing you.

But the truth is—I did choose you.

Every day. Quietly. Secretly. Even when I told myself I couldn’t. Even when I pushed you away.

You looked at me like I was worth saving. I don’t know if I am. But I would spend every day trying, if you let me.

Yours,

Reece

I stareat it for a long time. My thumb hovers over the screen. And then—I hit send. It whooshes off into the void like a flare shot into the night sky. I set the phone down. And I wait.

Chapter 25

Skye

The text comes in while Maya’s in the shower.

I’m curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath me, a mug of lukewarm coffee resting on my thigh. The living room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the city outside and the faint acoustic playlist drifting from my speaker.

When I see his number light up my screen, my heart jerks against my ribs like it’s been waiting for this exact moment. Even though I deleted his number. Even though I’ve been warring with myself about giving him a second chance.

I hesitate. Then I tap it open. It’s long. Unfiltered.

Every word bleeds. Every sentence sounds likehim.Not the polished man in suits who commands boardrooms, but the one who held my face like I was breakable. The one who said my name like it meant something. The one who told me with his eyes what his mouth couldn’t find the courage to say.

You looked at me like I was worth saving. I don’t know if I am. But I’d spend every day trying, if you let me.

My throat tightens. My fingers tremble. I read it again. And again. The part of me that aches for him starts typing before I even realize it.

Me:Come over.

I stare at the words. Then I backspace. No. Not yet. I set my phone face down on the coffee table and drag in a breath so deep it rattles my chest.

Maya walks into the room wrapped in a towel, eyes narrowing as she catches my expression. “Was thathim?”

I nod. She doesn’t push. Just grabs a can of sparkling water from the fridge and drops onto the couch beside me.

“He poured his heart out,” I say quietly. “And part of me wants to run straight into it.”

“But?”

“But I’ve done that before,” I whisper. “With Archer. With other men. I always forgive too fast. Fall too hard. Give too much.”

Maya sets her drink down and looks at me with gentle, steady eyes. “So don’t run. Walk. Let him earn the right to hold you.”

I nod slowly.

Because that’s it. That’s what feels different this time. I’m not the girl begging someone to choose me. I’m the woman who finally understands that I don’t have to earn love through sacrifice. I want to be wanted—withintention.With clarity. With boldness. With no shadows between us.

I push off the couch and grab my phone. My fingers don’t shake this time.

Me:If you want to talk, meet me tomorrow. 10 a.m. at Bluebird Coffee on Ashland. I’ll stay for fifteen minutes. Don’t be late.