Brinley stands near the window, arms wrapped around herself as if holding herself together. She doesn't turn when Jaxson steps into the room.
The door clicks shut behind him.
"I won't stay long," he says quietly. "And I won't interrupt. I promise."
She nods once, still facing the glass. Outside, the world moves like nothing inside her is falling apart.
"You hurt me," she begins, voice steady only because she's said the words a hundred times in her head already. "Not because you didn't love me,but because you made me feel foolish for loving you."
Jaxson swallows. He doesn't speak.
"I kept wondering what was wrong with me. If I imagined everything. If I crossed some invisible line you never meant for me to see."
Her fingers curl into the fabric of her sleeve. "I needed you to tell me the truth. Instead, you gave me distance."
"I was afraid," he says, then stops himself. "Sorry. I said I wouldn't interrupt."
She finally turns to face him. Her eyes are tired, but clear. "Fear doesn't excuse silence."
"No," he agrees. "It doesn't."
She steps closer, not toward him, but toward herself. "I'm not asking you to choose between me and my brother. I'm asking you to stop choosing fear over honesty."
His throat tightens. "I can do that."
"Words aren't enough anymore," she says softly. "I need consistency. I need to know that when things get complicated—and they will, you won't disappear."
"I won't," he says without hesitation.
She studies his face, searching for cracks. For doubt.
"Then hear this," she says. "I still love you. And that scares me. But I won't chase you. I won't beg you to see me."
He takes a step forward, stopping when she raises her hand.
"This is where I protect myself," she continues. "If you want me, you show up. Fully. No hiding behind Brandon. No half-steps."
Jaxson nods slowly. "That's fair."
She exhales, tension leaving her shoulders. "Good. Because I don't have anything left to lose."
A knock sounds at the door.
Brandon.
"You okay?" he asks, eyes flicking between them.
Brinley nods. "I am."
And she realizes it's true.
Jaxson looks at Brandon. "I'm not asking for permission," he says carefully. "But I am asking for the chance to prove I won't hurt her again."
Brandon's jaw tightens, but then he looks at his sister, really looks.
"Then don't," Brandon says. "Because next time, I won't warn you."
Jaxson accepts that without argument.
As he turns to leave, Brinley speaks one last time. "Jaxson?"
He pauses.
"If you walk away again," she says, calm but unyielding, "I won't follow."
His chest aches at the truth of it. "I understand."
The door closes behind him.
Brinley sits on the bed, heart pounding—not from loss this time, but from something unfamiliar.
Strength.
For the first time, love doesn't feel like surrender.
It feels like a choice.