The offer
BEN POV
The villa was quiet when we returned from the lake. The kind of quiet that wrapped around your limbs and made it hard to move.
Everyone dispersed without saying much—Clay disappearing to his room with red eyes and a crumpled tissue in hand, Marcelo claiming the couch with his hoodie pulled over his head, and Nolan… well, Nolan lingered like a ghost in the hallway.
I closed my bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, letting the silence stretch.
The ceremony had been beautiful in its own way, but nothing about it felt real. I kept expecting Ambrose to walk through the trees, his usual smirk tugging at his lips, saying something sarcastic to break the tension. But all I had was the urn, now empty, and the wind, which had carried the last of him into the lake.
I sat on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands. My palms came away damp with tears I hadn’t realized I was shedding.
I couldn’t keep doing this. Pretending like I was okay. Pretending like breathing didn’t hurt.
I lay back, one arm across my eyes, and tried to sleep to take me.
It didn’t.
Time passed. Maybe hours. Maybe minutes. The room grew dimmer, shadows lengthening across the ceiling, until a knock at the door broke the stillness.
I didn’t move.
Another knock.
“Ben?” Nolan’s voice was low, careful. “Can I come in?”
I didn’t answer, but the door creaked open anyway. He stepped inside quietly and closed it behind him. His footsteps were soft across the floor as he crossed the room and stood beside the bed.
“I brought you soup,” he said, holding out a small tray. “It’s still warm.”
I didn’t sit up. “Not hungry.”
He placed the tray on the nightstand and sat at the edge of the bed.
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday. That’s not good for you. Or the baby.”
I flinched. That word still caught me off guard—baby. This small, growing piece of Ambrose inside me. Proof that love had lived here once, even if it had ended in ashes.
“I said I’m not hungry.”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded and leaned back slightly, looking around the room like he was searching for something else to say.
The silence stretched between us until I broke it.
“Sometimes I hate you.”
His gaze snapped to mine. “I know.”
“I don’t hate you because of what you did,” I whispered. “I hate you because you’re still here. And he’s not. It’s not fair.”
His expression didn’t change. He just watched me, his jaw tight, but not angry. Just… accepting.
“I know,” he said again. “And I don’t blame you.”
My voice trembled. “I want to scream. But I’m scared if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then scream.”
I shook my head. “It won’t bring him back.”
“No,” he agreed. “But maybe it’ll make the weight a little easier to carry.”
I sat up slowly, cradling my stomach without thinking. I did that a lot lately—subconsciously protecting what little I had left.
“You didn’t sign up for this, Nolan,” I said, watching him. “You didn’t sign up to babysit me or play protector. You don’t owe me anything.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said quietly. “I made a promise. To my father. And to myself.”
I didn’t want to hear about promises. I didn’t want anyone’s pity. But the way he looked at me—it wasn’t pity at all. It was something deeper. Steadier.
“I’m not asking you to love me,” he added. “I’m not trying to replace him. I just want to help. However you’ll let me.”
I looked down at my hands. They trembled slightly.
“Today at the lake,” I began, voice rough, “I felt like I was dying, too. Like the part of me that could love, could laugh… it went with him.”
He didn’t respond. Just sat beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him.
I turned to him. “You asked me before what I planned to do after the funeral. I said I didn’t know.”
“Do you?” he asked gently.
“I sold my house. Bought an apartment overseas. I thought it was the only way to keep everyone safe. But now…” I exhaled slowly. “Zane’s gone. There’s no more threat. Just grief. And I don’t want to run from that. Not anymore.”
He nodded. “Then stay.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It can be.”
I gave a weak laugh. “Nolan, you offered for me to move in with you like it was nothing. Like this situation isn’t the messiest, most complicated thing in existence.”
He smiled faintly. “It is messy. But life doesn’t wait for things to be perfect.”
I hesitated.
Then: “What if I say yes? What if I move in, and I fall apart all over again? What if I can’t give this baby the life they deserve?”
He reached for my hand, held it gently between both of his.
“Then you won’t be alone when it happens. I’ll be there. We’ll figure it out together.”
Something cracked open inside me. A small, fragile bloom of something I couldn’t name. Maybe it was trust. Maybe it was just exhaustion.
But I didn’t pull my hand away.
“You sure about this?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
He nodded. “I’m sure.”
I lay my other hand over my belly.
“You hear that, little one?” I said softly. “Looks like we’re moving back to New York.”
\---
Later that night, I stood at the same window I’d looked through when we’d arrived. The stars had come out—faint, distant lights scattered across the sky. I wondered if Ambrose was up there somewhere, watching us. Watching me.
“You’d hate how much I cry,” I said aloud. “You’d tell me I look like a raccoon and shove coffee in my hands.”
A breeze drifted in through the window, soft and cool. I closed my eyes.
“I miss you,” I whispered. “So damn much.”
I pressed my ha
nds to my stomach and let the silence wrap around me. But this time, it didn’t feel like a tomb. It felt like a cocoon.
Like something was growing here. Quietly. Slowly.
Hope.