Page 137 of Cross Ice

“He said to designate one person to monitor for anything I actually need to know about. Flag the real threats, filter out the noise.” I looked at him. “I told him it was you.”

Danny unloaded sandwiches and chips. “So, I’ve been promoted.”

“You’ve been doing it anyway.”

“True.” He sat down on a stool and unwrapped his sandwich. “Okay. I can do that.” A pause. “What counts as something you actually need to know?”

I retrieved drinks from the fridge. “Specific threats. Misinformation that needs correcting. Anything that affects my business directly.” I paused. “Everything else… I don’t want to see it.”

“That’s going to be hard for you.”

“I know.” I met his eyes. “That’s why it has to be you.”

I sat down next to him. “He also asked me something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”

“Tell me.”

I told him what mattered: Wesley had asked me if I wanted this life. Not if I could handle it. If I wanted it.

Danny set down his sandwich. “Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Evan.”

“I love Nico. I know I love him. But do I want people following me at the grocery store? Do I want my name attached to articles calling me a gold digger? Do I want to lose clients because of who I’m dating?” I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. Stop thinking about what you don’t want. What do you want?”

I looked at him. “What?”

“You’ve spent weeks cataloging everything you’re afraid of. Everything you’re losing. Everything that’s hard.” He leaned forward. “What do you actually want?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

“Do you want to be with Nico?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want a future with him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to build a life together?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s your answer. The rest is logistics.”

“It’s not that simple⁠—”

“It kind of is.” He gave me the look. “You’re making it complicated because you’re scared. But at the end of the day, you either want him or you don’t. You either want the life that comes with him or you don’t. And if you do, you figure out how to make it work. If you don’t, you walk away.”

“I want him,” I said.

“Okay. So, what does that mean?”

“It means I stop organizing my entire life around avoiding attention.” I paused. “It means I actually show up.”