“Come on,” Blade said. “If one of the members came to you talking this nonsense, you’d slap them upside the head.”
Well—even if that was true, this was a different situation. Wasn’t it? I sipped my coffee, brow furrowed.
“I almost lost Logan,” Blade said.
I started, then looked up and met Blade’s eyes. His dark eyes were warm with concern, and I suddenly noticed the crow’s feet at the corners, and the laugh lines near his mouth. Blade was a good president, I’d never doubted that. But I did sometimes still think of him as the young, bright-eyed prospect who’d joined all those years ago. He’d been through just as much as all of us, though—and he knew the fear of loss, same as I did. He’d lost Ankh, too.
“It would’ve been easier to run away,” Blade said. “To push Logan away and go back to the way things were. But I would’ve been lying to myself. Acting like a coward. Ankh taught me that this club was supposed to be a place where we could build a home. Be our real selves. A port in a storm. And how could I lead a club with that ethos if I was too afraid to follow my heart?” He grinned. “And, obviously, it paid off for me.”
“When’d you get so wise?” I deflected, as I turned over Blade’s words in my mind.
“Good leadership growing up,” he said. “Seriously. If you love Mal—really love him—then the last thing you need to do is run from that. That’ll destroy you sooner than some imagined what-if.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said. “If something goes wrong, it puts the whole club at risk. Not just—not just loss, but even something as simple as breaking up. It affects all of us.”
“Of course it does,” Blade said. “We all want you two to be happy. Haven’t you noticed what’s happened to the club lately?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. Suddenly confused. Had something changed that I didn’t notice?
“We’re stable,” Blade said. “The club’s foundation is strong. Especially now that we have the two chapters—if something happened between you and Mal, and you needed time apart, or even time away from the club, you could do that. And the club would be fine. It’s strong.” He stepped closer and put his hand on my shoulder. “You built something lasting. You’re safe to take these risks here.”
My heart twisted. Blade was right—Ankh and I had built a strong club. With a strong foundation.
And… maybe I didn’t need to worry about turning the club on its axis if something went wrong between Mal and me. But that didn’t mean I could just jump into a relationship. Not when…
I looked over Blade’s shoulder at the fridge, where the photo of Ankh and me was in the center, arms swung around each other, smiling wide.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” I murmured. “The fear of losing another man I love—or loving someone new in the first place.”
Blade followed my line of sight to the photo. He hummed in understanding. “Is that what’s been holding you back? This whole time?”
I was so tired. Tired of trying to change my feelings, trying to hide, trying to grapple with the loss of my husband and my new feelings for my oldest friend.
“Of course,” I said. “I thought I’d never want to be with anyone again. I was okay with that. Falling for Mal has made me reframe what I thought the rest of my life would look like.” I met his eyes. “I’m not getting any younger.”
“And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t run from this,” Blade said seriously. “Ankh would want you to be happy. He would want you to live a full life—he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over your capacity to love. Your feelings for Mal don’t mean you loved Ankh any less. It’s a testament to how much love you have to give.”
I’d never thought about it that way.
“Oh,” I said quietly, still gazing at the photo.
Loving Mal didn’t mean I didn’t love Ankh. It wasn’t a competition. And the relationships weren’t the same—they didn’t need to be. This was just a different chapter in my life. It didn’t mean I would forget Ankh, and it didn’t diminish what we’d had.
Blade was right. Ankh would want me to take risks to be happy. He would want me to live. And I