Page 21 of Thawed Gladiator: Quintus (Awakened From the Ice #6)
Nicole
I wake in Quintus’s arms with a clarity I haven’t felt in years. No panic. No regret. Just the quiet certainty that I’m exactly where I belong.
He stirs beside me, brushing his lips over my temple. “You were smiling in your sleep,” he murmurs.
“I feel… settled. Like my body finally got the memo that it doesn’t have to brace for disaster every second.”
His brow furrows, protective as always. “And you’re certain I didn’t push too hard last night?”
I laugh softly. “Push? Quintus, that was the first time in my life I wasn’t being pushed. I cherished every moment. With you, I don’t feel smaller—I feel more myself.”
Relief flickers across his features. He cups my face, tilting it so I can’t look away. “Then let’s choose deliberately. No more running, no more half-measures. We date. Properly. Meals together, walks, fights, and forgiveness. Whatever modern lovers do.”
“Dating,” I repeat, the word both foreign and right on my tongue. “Not some control-freak arrangement where I’m waiting for the exit.”
His thumb strokes my cheek. “Only if it’s what you want, Nicole. Never because you think it’s what I need to hear.”
“It’s what I want.” The admission is easier than I imagined. “I even extended my stay. Got up in the middle of the night and pushed the button for four more weeks. Long enough to figure out if this is real outside the bubble.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “Then I’ll consider myself the luckiest man alive.”
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, Ava’s face lighting the screen. I prop it against a pillow, and my daughter’s eyes narrow immediately.
“Mom, you look… different. Settled. Like you finally dropped the fifty-pound weight you’ve been hauling around since forever.”
“Do I?”
“You do. Your shoulders aren’t up around your ears anymore. And you’ve got that glow.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I laugh, warmth flooding me. “Quintus and I decided to try dating. For real this time.”
Her squeal nearly deafens me. “Finally! That’s progress, Mom. I’m thrilled.”
“He’s never tried to control me, Ava. Never made me smaller. I was so afraid of repeating my mistakes with your father that I couldn’t see how different this is.”
“Then what’s the plan?”
“The plan is to stay. To see where this goes. And if it doesn’t work, at least I’ll know I tried instead of sabotaging something good out of fear.”
Ava studies me for a long moment, then nods. “That’s my mom.”
When the call ends, I wander into Quintus’s small kitchen nook, where he’s already put water on for coffee. The simple domesticity makes my chest ache in the best way.
An email dings, and my breath catches. “Oh.”
“Excellent news?” Quintus asks, reading my face.
“The best. Professor Muransky wants to recommend me for accelerated graduate programs. Multiple schools are interested in my work.” I hand him my phone. “A year ago, Scott said community college was too ambitious for me.”
Quintus’s expression hardens, but his voice is steady. “He was wrong. About everything.”
“I’ll look for programs with online components or flexible residencies,” I say slowly. “That way I could be based here while finishing my degree.”
“Here at the sanctuary?”
“If it’s not too soon.”
His hand covers mine, warm and steady. “Nothing about us feels too soon. I’ve waited two thousand years for you, my love. But it must be your choice.”
That distinction—the freedom—means everything.
That night in the communal hall, I slide into the seat beside Quintus without hesitation. No nerves, no second-guessing. Just claiming my place.
The other gladiators exchange knowing smiles.
“So it is official?” Thrax asks in his careful English, gesturing between us.
“We’re dating,” I admit. Then, flushing, add, “Taking it slow. Figuring things out.”
Victor inclines his head, voice calm. “The Stoics teach that impatience ruins what could endure. A wall built too quickly crumbles—but one laid stone by stone lasts for generations. So it is with love.”
The lack of pressure is its own gift. Just warmth, acceptance, support, and the promise of belonging.
Later, I excuse myself early, choosing to sleep alone so I can polish my latest report. Independence used to feel like loneliness; now it feels like balance.
Hours slip by in a blur of typing until my phone rings. A Chicago number. My stomach knots. Scott has always had a talent for timing his crises with my joys.
When I was ready to have David, he took a night shift. A big job interview? Fender bender. Academic success? A mysterious back injury that left me coordinating endless doctor visits.
The pattern was so reliable that by the end of our marriage, I’d brace for disaster every time something good happened to me.
Even divorced, the dread returns as the phone vibrates. Against my better judgment, I answer.
“Mom?” Ava’s voice is tight with stress. “Sorry to call so late on my roommate’s phone—my battery’s dead. But we have a problem. It’s Dad. He’s in serious trouble, and we need you to come home.”
The fairy-tale glow evaporates in an instant. My hands tremble as the familiar knot of anxiety coils tight in my gut. Scott’s chaos, reaching across state lines to steal my peace.
Quintus must hear the strain in my voice as I talk to Ava, because he appears in the doorway—eyes sharp, body coiled. The moment I hang up, he vows, “Whatever it is, you will not face it alone.”