Later that evening, the house felt calm—almost too calm.
Marcus was in his study finishing paperwork. Ayla wandered the hallway, unable to shake the tension that had been sitting low in her stomach all day.
She needed to tell him.
She had to.
Because the longer she kept it inside, the heavier it grew.
When she opened the study door, Marcus looked up immediately.
"Ayla," he said, his voice warm. "Is everything alright?"
"No," she admitted. "I need to talk to you."
He pushed aside his papers instantly. "Come here."
She walked inside, her heart racing, palms slightly cold. Marcus reached out, lacing his fingers with hers. His touch grounded her, but it also made the fear sharper.
"Ayla," he said gently, "you're trembling."
"I know." She swallowed. "Because what I'm about to say might change everything."
Marcus's expression shifted—concern, alertness, the instinctive protectiveness he carried whenever he sensed she was hurting.
"You can tell me anything."
She took a breath.
"When we met… I wasn't looking for someone like you. I wasn't looking for anyone at all. I had just left a life that broke me. And you—" her voice wavered "—you became this steady place I didn't expect. But Marcus… I didn't tell you everything about why I left."
His thumb brushed her hand. "You don't owe me your past if it hurts—"
"But I do," she said firmly. "Because it affects us."
Marcus stilled, giving her his full attention.
Ayla finally let the words fall.
"My ex reached out to me again."
Marcus's face darkened instantly—not with jealousy, but with concern.
"When?" His voice was low, controlled.
"Last week," she whispered. "I didn't answer. But I've been afraid. Afraid of what he wants. Afraid that the past I'm running from will follow me here… and drag you into it."
Marcus rose from his chair, walking around the desk until he stood right in front of her.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Because I didn't want you to think I'm still connected to him. I'm not. I left for a reason. I left because he made me feel small, worthless, trapped. I left because if I stayed, I would have lost myself completely."
Marcus cupped her shoulders, steady and firm.
"Look at me."
She did.
"You are safe here. With me. No one—absolutely no one—gets to come into your life and hurt you again."
Her eyes stung. "Even if he tries?"
"I don't care who he is," Marcus said fiercely. "If he becomes a threat, I'll protect you. You don't have to face this alone."
Something inside her cracked open.
Relief. Fear. Love.
All tangled together.
But Marcus wasn't finished.
"Ayla… I need you to understand something."
His voice softened.
"I'm not with you because I want to save you. I'm with you because I love who you are. Your strength. Your vulnerability. Your stubborn heart. I don't want to replace your past. I want to build your future—with you."
Tears slipped down her cheek. Marcus brushed them away with a tenderness that made her breath catch.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"So am I," he murmured. "But I'd rather face that fear with you than live safely without you."
She leaned into him, letting herself feel the weight and safety of his embrace. For the first time since the message came, she felt like she could breathe.
Because Marcus wasn't just older.
He wasn't just steady.
He wasn't just the man who held her at night when nightmares came.
He was the one who chose her even when she came with scars.
And she knew then—clearly, painfully, beautifully—
that she loved him.
But she also knew something else:
Her past wasn't done with her yet.
And soon, both of them would have to face it.
Together… or not.