Chapter 45
1798 Words
✨Glass Walls Don’t Mute Fear.✨
Flora Pov
Flora never meant to overhear anything.
She had only slipped out of bed for water, still wrapped in the soft haze of the night before, still warm in places she didn’t yet have words for. The penthouse was quiet in that expensive way—too open, too glass-heavy, a place where sound traveled farther than intention.
She slowed when she heard voices.
Nasir’s was unmistakable. Low. Controlled. Dangerous in its restraint.
“…this isn’t a discussion.”
Another voice answered him—older, smoother, edged with something sharp and assessing.
“She’s a liability.”
Flora froze.
Her fingers curled instinctively into the fabric of Nasir’s shirt she still wore, bare feet pressing into the cold marble as her heart began to pound.
“She’s fragile,” his father continued calmly. “You can see it in the way she looks at you. In how quickly she attaches. Women like that don’t survive your world.”
Flora’s breath stuttered.
Nasir’s voice hardened. “You don’t know her.”
A soft, dismissive laugh followed. “I know enough. You don’t get to keep soft things, Nasir. They get broken—or used.”
The words landed like a blow.
Flora stepped back instinctively, retreating before she could hear more, before the truth could finish unfolding. She barely made it to the bathroom before her knees gave out and she slid down the door, arms wrapping around herself as if that could hold everything together.
Mr. Darven.
Nasir’s father.
The realization settled heavy and terrifying in her chest.
He thought she didn’t belong. He thought she was weak. He wants Nasir to leave her.
The thought hurt more than the words themselves.
She pressed her forehead to her knees, tears slipping free before she could stop them. Men like that didn’t threaten—they predicted. And Nasir lived in a world where walking away could be framed as mercy.
The bathroom door opened quietly.
Nasir stepped inside and stopped short when he saw her on the floor.
“Flora,” he said softly.
She looked up at him, eyes already glassy, breath uneven.
“I heard him,” she whispered.
Something shifted instantly in Nasir’s expression—alert, guarded.
“He thinks I’m fragile,” she rushed on, voice shaking. “He thinks I’m not built for your life. And he’s your father, Nasir. Fathers don’t speak without meaning.”
He crossed the room and knelt in front of her, hands hovering for a second before gently cupping her face.
“Look at me,” he said quietly.
She tried to hold his gaze, but fear flooded faster than reason. “Is he right?”
Nasir didn’t answer immediately.
That pause—small, unintentional—was devastating.
She pushed to her feet, pacing as panic took over. “I knew this would happen. I knew this was temporary. Men like you don’t stay with women like me. You don’t choose—”
“Flora,” he interrupted, firmer now. “Stop.”
She turned on him, tears spilling freely. “Then say it. Say you’re not going to leave me.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Her laugh was broken. “You said that too fast.”
“You didn’t imagine this. But you misunderstood one thing.”
He paused.
“I didn’t choose you by accident.”
“No one gets to decide who I love.”
“Not my father. Not my past.”
“I’m still here. That should tell you everything.”
Nasir exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You think I brought you into my home just to walk away?”
“I think,” she said through tears, “that you’re capable of loving me and still deciding I don’t fit. And that’s worse.”
The words hit him hard.
He stepped closer, careful now. “You’re not fragile,” he said. “You’re unarmored. There’s a difference.”
“Your father doesn’t see that.”
“My father doesn’t get a vote.”
She shook her head. “He always does.”
Nasir’s hands found her arms, steadying her. “He’s afraid of what you change in me. That’s all.”
Flora searched his face desperately. “I don’t want to be the thing that costs you everything.”
“You won’t,” he said firmly. “But you might be the thing that makes me choose differently.”
She broke then, folding into his chest, fingers clutching his shirt like an anchor.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered.
“You won’t,” he murmured, holding her close. “Not because of him. Not without a fight.”
She pulled back just enough to look at him. “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“If you ever decide I don’t belong in your life,” she said softly, “don’t disappear. Don’t protect me by leaving me in the dark.”
Nasir met her gaze steadily. “I swear.”
Outside, the city gleamed—cold, beautiful, unforgiving.
Inside, Flora held onto the man she loved, knowing now that the danger wasn’t imagined.
It was real.
And it was already watching her through the glass.
Of course.
Nasir didn’t rush her.
He guided her back to the bed slowly, one hand firm at her lower back, the other warm and steady around her wrist as if reminding her she wasn’t about to fall apart alone. When they reached the mattress, he sat first and drew her with him, easing her down until her side was pressed to his chest.
He held her like she was something precious, not something that might break.
Flora curled into him instinctively, cheek against his collarbone, fingers fisting in his shirt as if letting go might send her spiraling again. His arm wrapped fully around her now, palm moving in long, soothing strokes along her spine.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, low and steady. “Take your time.”
Her chest hitched.
She had never been given time before.
For a long moment, she just breathed—shallow at first, then deeper, shakier, until the tightness in her ribs softened enough for words to exist.
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding…” She swallowed hard. “…small.”
Nasir tilted his head, resting his cheek against her hair. “You don’t have to sound like anything.”
She drew in another breath, courage trembling inside her like a fragile flame.
“I’ve spent my whole life trying not to need,” she said quietly. “Not to want. Because wanting meant disappointment. Or punishment. Or being reminded that I didn’t deserve more than what I was given.”
His hand stilled, just for a second.
Flora closed her eyes.
“And then you came along,” she whispered. “And you didn’t just give me things—you gave me space. Choice. Safety. And I don’t know what to do with that except hold onto it too tightly.”
Her voice broke on the last word.
Nasir tightened his arms around her, grounding her against him.
“I’m scared,” she admitted, tears slipping free again. “Not of you. Never of you. I’m scared of how much I feel when I’m with you. How quickly I stopped bracing for the worst.”
She shifted slightly, just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were red, lashes wet, vulnerability laid bare without armor.
“I think I love you,” she said, the words trembling but clear. “And that terrifies me.”
Silence followed—but not the kind that threatened.
Nasir exhaled slowly, forehead resting against hers now.
“Flora,” he said, voice rougher than before. “You don’t have to give me your whole heart like it’s a debt.”
“I’m not,” she whispered quickly. “I just—needed you to know. Because if you ever walk away without knowing how deeply I chose you, I don’t think I’d survive that kind of silence.”
Her hands shook as they pressed flat against his chest, right over his heart, as if proving to herself it was real.
“I don’t need promises,” she went on softly. “I just need honesty. Even if it hurts.”
Nasir lifted her chin gently, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“I’m not walking away,” he said with quiet certainty. “And I’m not keeping you in the dark.”
Her breath hitched again—not from fear this time, but relief so sharp it hurt.
He brushed his thumb beneath her eye, catching a tear before it could fall.
“You loving me doesn’t make you weak,” he continued. “It makes you brave. Braver than most people I know.”
She let out a small, broken sound—something between a sob and a laugh—and collapsed fully into him, arms wrapping around his waist as if she finally allowed herself to cling.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” she murmured.
“You’re not,” he said immediately. “You’re a choice. One I make every day.”
That did it.
Flora cried then—quietly, deeply—tears soaking into his shirt as everything she’d held in for years finally had permission to spill. Nasir stayed with her through it all, rocking her gently, whispering nothing but steady reassurance.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.”
“Breathe with me. Just like this.”
“You don’t have to be strong right now.”
“I’ve got you. Let me.”
“You’re safe in my arms.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” He coaxes her into a comfort that feels dangerous.
“You’re doing so well.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“I see you.”
“You matter to me.”
“I choose you—every day.” He said gently, never pushing, never demanding.
When the storm finally passed, she lay against him, exhausted, eyes heavy, heartbeat slowing.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured faintly. “I didn’t mean to fall apart.”
He pressed a kiss to her hair—soft, reverent.
“You didn’t fall apart,” he said. “You trusted me.”
Her fingers tightened weakly in his shirt one last time.
“I don’t want to lose this,” she whispered.
“You won’t,” he replied. “I won’t let you.”
And for the first time since she’d overheard his father’s voice echoing through the glass halls of the penthouse, Flora believed him—not because he promised safety…
…but because he stayed.
- Writer
