Chapter Twelve – Choosing the Safe Option
Eliana sat in Maddie's room, curled into the corner of the velvet armchair, knees tucked to her chest. Maddie's dorm looked more like a boutique hotel suite than a student's room—plush rugs, scented candles, and fairy lights strung across the ceiling. But even in the cozy glow, Eliana's heart felt restless, twisted into knots she couldn't untangle.
"I don't know what to do, Maddie," she whispered. "They both… they both said things to me. Things that won't leave my head."
Maddie poured them both glasses of sparkling water from a crystal pitcher, her movements calm, deliberate. She handed one to Eliana and sat on the edge of her bed, legs crossed elegantly.
"Okay," she said, tilting her head. "Let's talk about this rationally. William and Stephen are very different men."
Eliana pressed her forehead into her knees. "I know."
"Stephen is… exciting. Charming. He makes your heart race. I get it. But Ellie, think about the future. Is he reliable? Is he the kind of man you could build a life with?" Maddie's voice was smooth, careful. "Or is he the kind of man who would break you, piece by piece, and not even notice?"
Eliana lifted her eyes, uncertainty clouding them.
Maddie reached over, taking her hand. "William is steady. He sees you, really sees you. And he loves you—he's not even hiding it. Do you know how rare that is? Someone who isn't afraid to put their heart on the line?"
Eliana swallowed, Maddie's words digging deep.
Maddie squeezed her fingers. "Sometimes, Ellie, the safe option is the right option. Love isn't always about butterflies and racing hearts. It's about choosing the person who will still be holding your hand when the storms come."
---
That night, Eliana walked across campus in a haze. William was waiting outside the library, as though he had known she'd come this way. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his expression soft but searching.
"Eliana," he said quietly, stepping closer. "I wasn't sure you'd want to see me."
Her chest ached. She thought of Stephen's forehead kiss, his reckless words that burned through her like fire. She thought of William's steady eyes, his quiet confession in the library.
"I… I thought about what you said," she whispered.
His breath caught, though he tried to hide it. "And?"
Eliana's hands trembled at her sides. "I'm scared, William. I don't know what I feel, or what I'll feel tomorrow. But I know this—you're good for me. And I…" She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I want to try."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then William exhaled sharply, relief flooding his features. He stepped forward, gently cupping her cheek.
"You don't have to be scared," he said, voice low and warm. "Because I'll take care of your heart like it's my own. Always."
Her throat tightened. His words wrapped around her like a promise she didn't deserve.
Then—softly, almost cautiously—he leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn't wild or consuming like she imagined Stephen's kiss would be. It was tender, grounding, the kind of kiss that whispered of stability, of belonging, of a love that could last a lifetime.
And yet, even as her lips moved against his, a small part of her heart was screaming Stephen's name.
---
Later that night, lying in bed, Eliana stared at the ceiling. William's kiss still lingered on her lips. But in her dreams, it was Stephen's voice that chased her, Stephen's touch she longed for.
And that was the truth she couldn't admit to anyone—not even herself.