Theo stood outside Nilla's apartment, watching the city blur in the reflection of the glass door. He had been here so many times—bringing her coffee, taking her out, sneaking in late just to lie beside her in the quiet dark—but tonight felt different.
Tonight was about choosing the future. Not just his own—but *theirs.*
Nilla opened the door and smiled softly, but her eyes already knew. She stepped aside and let him in, like she was letting in something heavy.
He sat across from her, taking a moment to absorb her presence—the way her hair curled naturally at the ends, the way she still had his sweatshirt draped over the chair.
"I've made a decision," Theo said, voice calm but firm. "I'm going back."
Nilla's brows furrowed. "Back?"
"To my family. To the company. If I want to protect what we have—our relationship, our lives—I can't keep running from their influence. I need to rise above it. Take the company. Restructure the legacy into something I can be proud of. Something *we* could be proud of."
He paused, then reached for her hand.
"I want to build a future where no one—*no one*—gets to decide who I love or what I stand for. But to do that, I need power. And I can't get that power if I keep living in exile."
Nilla swallowed hard, heart pounding. "Theo…"
"I want you to come with me," he said, earnest and vulnerable. "Not to be dragged into the fight, but to stand beside me. You make me stronger."
Nilla's eyes filled with tears, but her hand gently slipped out of his.
"I love you, Theo," she whispered. "And because I love you… I won't go."
His face fell, confused and wounded.
"You need to focus. All of your strength, your attention—it needs to go into this battle. You're trying to change an entire system. If I go with you, it won't just be about the company. You'll be fighting for *me* too. And that's not fair to either of us."
Theo blinked slowly, absorbing her words. She wasn't rejecting him. She was protecting him.
"I need to grow, too," she continued. "I want to be someone no one can look down on. I don't want to walk into a room with you and have people think I'm some girl you picked up outside the gate. I want to be able to stand beside you as your *equal.* And right now, I'm not there yet."
Silence stretched between them—sharp and intimate.
"So we're really doing this?" he asked.
She nodded. "We're choosing the long road. Separately. For now."
He leaned in slowly, brushing a hand along her cheek. "Then let's not say goodbye."
"No," she said. "Just… see you when we're ready."
Their lips met in a soft, soul-deep kiss. No desperation. No need to change minds. Just a quiet promise of something waiting in the distance.
When they pulled apart, both were crying. Theo stood, hesitated, then turned and walked to the door. He looked back once—just once—and she smiled through her tears.
"Go be great," she whispered.
"You too," he said, and stepped into the night.
Two years.
730 days.
And every one of them counted.
Letting go of Theo wasn't easy. It wasn't like James where bitterness filled the void. With Theo, it was more like swallowing sunlight—bright and warm going down, but leaving a quiet ache when it was gone. But I had made a choice. A terrifying, gut-wrenching, adult choice to let someone I loved go... so we could both rise without chains.
I threw myself into my work. Late nights turned into early mornings. Weekends blurred into weekdays. But every bit of exhaustion came with reward. Within six months, I'd led a massive security overhaul for a Fortune 500 company. A year in, Sarah and I co-founded *Glassline Security*, our own cybersecurity firm. And now?
Now I was "Nilla Stone, Co-Founder and Lead Strategist."
A woman respected in a male-dominated field.
A woman no one looked down on anymore.
And a woman who had stopped crying in the dark when no one was looking.
Sarah kept me sane through it all. Our late-night ramen-fueled strategy sessions, her endless ridiculous motivational signs (the current one over my desk read "Hack like a hot girl"), and our tradition of Friday wine-and-cheese nights became our foundation.
Theo? He stayed in my heart, but quietly. I didn't check up on him. I didn't let myself stalk his socials. It wasn't anger—I simply knew that if I kept looking back, I wouldn't be able to move forward. And I'd promised him I would.
So here I was, two years later, standing in front of a high-profile corporate seminar as the keynote speaker. My heels were killing me, but the applause was worth it. As I stepped down off the stage and made my way toward the reception area, I heard a familiar voice call my name.
"...Nilla Stone?"
I turned.
And blinked.
Well.
Wasn't this a surprise?