Chapter 7 THE FALLOUT

Zara woke slowly, surrounded by warmth and the steady rhythm of breath against her neck. For a second, she didn't move-half caught in the dreamlike haze between sleep and waking.

Jace's arm was still wrapped around her, heavy and protective. His chest pressed against her back, skin to skin. His fingers had slid under the hem of her sleep shirt in the middle of the night, splayed across her stomach like they belonged there.

And the worst part was... they did.

Zara's breath caught in her throat.

She felt safe. Anchored. Whole.

And it scared the shit out of her.

Carefully, slowly, she turned in his arms until she was facing him. He was still asleep, dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. She'd never allowed herself to really look at him like this before-unfiltered, soft, completely vulnerable.

God, he was beautiful.

Jace Carter, the boy who had protected her since freshman year. Who had walked her home from night classes. Who had held her hair when she was drunk. Who knew her moods better than she did. Who brought her coffee without asking and studied her favorite poets just to have something to talk about.

And last night...

She'd let him in-fully, emotionally, and she hadn't wanted to run.

Until now.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking against the morning light. When they landed on hers, he smiled-groggy and perfect. "Hey."

"Hi," she whispered.

For a second, neither moved.

"You okay?" he asked, voice still rough with sleep.

Zara nodded. Then hesitated. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

Jace's smile faded just a little. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pull away in your head before you actually do it in real life."

Her stomach twisted. He knew her too well.

"I'm not pulling away," she said. "I'm just trying to figure out what this means."

"It means what it's always meant," Jace said simply. "That I'm in love with you."

Zara's heart stopped.

He'd said it.

No buildup. No apology. Just truth.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Jace's expression didn't change. "You don't have to say it back. I didn't say it to trap you. I said it because it's the truth, and I'm tired of pretending it isn't."

Zara sat up, the blanket falling away from her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around herself, heart thundering.

"I don't want to lose you," she said quietly.

"You won't," he said. "Not unless you walk away."

She looked back at him. "What if I mess it up?"

"You won't," he repeated. "We've already survived everything else."

Zara blinked against the tears rising in her throat. She wasn't used to being loved like this-gently, unconditionally. Without demands. Without ultimatums.

Jace sat up too, moving beside her. His shoulder brushed hers, and she leaned into him without thinking.

"I need time," she whispered.

He nodded. "Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."

⸻

The silence between them wasn't cold when he left later that morning. It was heavy, yes-but not in a painful way. It was full. A silence that said something happened here.

Zara watched him walk down the hallway from the crack in her door, arms wrapped around herself.

And when she closed it, the air in her apartment felt different.

Not empty.

But changed.

⸻

Later that night, she sat on her bed with her laptop open and unsent texts in her drafts.

She didn't know what to say.

Thank you?

I miss you already?

Why does loving someone make you feel like you're free-falling without a parachute?

Eventually, she typed something.

Zara: I felt safe last night.

She hit send.

A minute later, her phone buzzed.

Jace: That's all I've ever wanted.