Chapter 121 CHAPTER 121:WAYNE’S INTERNAL STRUGGLE
~Wayne's Pov~
Grief had taught Wayne that lesson with ruthless precision.
He wanted Mara back every single day after the accident. Wanted her laugh, her impatience, the way she stole the blankets and then blamed him for being cold. Wanting hadn’t changed the outcome. Wanting hadn’t softened the earth that swallowed her name.
So now, when he found himself wanting Elara, it scared him more than he was willing to admit.
He stood at his kitchen sink long after the dishes were clean, hands braced against the counter, staring at nothing. The house was quiet too quiet but he didn’t turn on the radio like he used to. Silence felt more honest lately. Less distracting.
Elara’s voice lingered in his head anyway.
Her laugh earlier that afternoon when he’d burned the toast. The way she’d rolled her eyes and said, “You had one job.” The softness in her gaze when she thanked him for staying late to make sure she took her meds.
Wayne exhaled slowly.
This was how it started. Not with fireworks or desire that knocked the air from his lungs—but with comfort. With familiarity. With the terrifying realization that her presence had begun to feel necessary.
He hated himself for that.
Not because Elara was unworthy God, no but because she was still healing. Still fragile in ways she didn’t always acknowledge. And Wayne knew what it meant to be the person someone leaned on when they were broken.
He’d been that man before.
And he’d failed.
He pressed his thumb against the edge of the counter until the dull ache grounded him.
You don’t get to need her, he told himself. You get to help her. That’s it.
But the line between the two was thinner than he wanted it to be.
Wayne thought about the way she looked when she concentrated tongue pressing lightly against her teeth, brows furrowing just a little. About the nights she fell asleep mid-conversation, trusting him enough to let her guard down completely. About how she said his name like it was safe.
That was the most dangerous part.
Safety was intimacy in disguise.
He’d sworn at Mara’s grave, at the shattered remains of the life he’d lost that if he ever loved again, he would do it right. That he would never again be careless with another person’s heart.
But what did right even mean now?
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a slow breath.
Calvin’s voice still echoed in his mind from that phone call weeks ago. All I ever wanted was my own family.
Wayne’s jaw tightened.
Calvin had wanted a dream.
Wayne wanted a person.
That difference mattered but it didn’t erase the guilt.
Because sometimes, late at night, Wayne caught himself imagining things he had no right to imagine.
Elara laughing freely, unburdened by pain. Elara reaching for him without hesitation. Elara choosing him not out of need, not out of gratitude, but because she wanted to.
Those thoughts felt like trespassing.
He didn’t want to be a replacement. Didn’t want to be the man she turned to because everyone else had left. Didn’t want to confuse her healing with love, or worse confuse his protectiveness with entitlement.
He knew that kind of mistake.
He’d watched Calvin make it.
Wayne moved away from the counter and sat heavily at the kitchen table, elbows resting on the wood. He clasped his hands together, fingers interlocking tightly.
What if I hurt her? he thought.
Not intentionally. Never intentionally. But love had a way of doing damage even when handled carefully.
He remembered Mara’s face in the hospital, still and pale, and the way his chest had collapsed inward when the doctor told him she was gone. Remembered thinking that loving her had been the best thing he’d ever done and the thing that had destroyed him most completely.
Could he survive that again?
More importantly—could Elara?
Wayne closed his eyes.
He thought of the nights she woke disoriented, fear flashing in her eyes before recognition settled in. The way she flinched at sudden pain, at sudden silence. The way she apologized for things that weren’t her fault.
I’m sorry I’m like this, she’d said once, voice small.
The memory made his chest ache.
He didn’t want to be another man who left scars on her. Didn’t want to take up space in her life only to abandon it when things became complicated.
And yet he was already there.
Already woven into her days. Already the person she called when her head hurt or her thoughts spiraled. Already the one she trusted to hold the pieces when she couldn’t.
Wayne laughed softly, humorless.
Too late to pretend this doesn’t matter.
The truth was, he was afraid not of loving her, but of wanting something for himself again. Afraid that hope would turn into expectation. That expectation would turn into resentment.
He’d seen how easily that happened.
Calvin hadn’t left Elara because she was unlovable. He’d left because grief had twisted love into something conditional. Because he couldn’t separate who Elara was from what she could no longer give him.
Wayne refused to make that mistake.
I don’t want anything from her, he told himself firmly. I just want to give.
But even that frightened him.
Because giving without wanting recognition was one thing. Giving while secretly hoping for something in return was another and Wayne wasn’t naïve enough to pretend he didn’t feel that pull.
He wanted her happiness.
And, selfishly, he wanted to be part of it.
Wayne stood and walked to the window, looking out at the dark street beyond. Somewhere across town, Elara was probably asleep or pretending to be. He pictured her curled beneath her blankets, hair fanned across the pillow, breathing slow and steady.
The image settled something in him.
This isn’t about possession, he realized. It’s about patience.
He didn’t have to decide anything yet. Didn’t have to confess feelings he wasn’t sure were ready to be spoken. Didn’t have to define something that was still becoming.
What he had to do what he owed both Mara and Elara was restraint.
To stay without claiming.
To love without demanding.
To protect without controlling.
Wayne rested his forehead against the glass, the coolness grounding him.
“I’ll do this right,” he whispered into the quiet room.
Even if it meant wanting her silently.
Even if it meant stepping back when every instinct told him to step closer.
Because Elara deserved a love that chose her freely not one born from loneliness or fear.
And Wayne loved her enough to wait.