I'm Not Letting You Go

Susan

Warmth. That’s what I felt first. Not just physical warmth but something deeper, something safe. My head was heavy, my body sluggish, but I knew I wasn’t alone. A familiar scent wrapped around me...clean, musky, undeniably him.

I blinked, trying to orient myself. Dim lighting, soft sheets, a quiet hum of the city beyond the windows, this wasn’t my apartment.

It was Elliot’s.

Panic jolted through me, but before I could sit up, a deep voice cut through the haze.

“You’re awake.”

I turned my head, and there he was, sitting at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped. He looked… exhausted. Like he hadn’t slept. Like I was the reason he hadn’t.

Memories from earlier flooded back. The restaurant, Manuel, the alcohol, my stupid, pathetic breakdown. I closed my eyes briefly, humiliation creeping up my spine.

“Why am I here?” I croaked.

“You got drunk,” he said simply. “Manuel called me.”

I winced, Manuel. He had seen me unravel, spilling my sorrows like a desperate fool, and now Elliot knew, he definitely know everything now.

Susan, what the hell were you thinking?

I shifted, attempting to sit up, but a sharp headache shot through my skull, forcing me to pause. Elliot reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, holding it out for me.

I hesitated, but the look in his eyes told me not to fight it.

I took the glass, sipping carefully.

Silence stretched between us.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was quiet but heavy, filled with something I wasn’t sure I could handle.

I placed the glass down, staring at my hands. “Tell you what?”

His jaw clenched. “About your mother, I can change the nursing home she currently is, and also about how much you’re struggling.”

I exhaled slowly, pressing my fingers against my temples. “Because it doesn’t change anything, and I'm not in need of your charity.”

“Yes, it does. and it's not charity...you're my woman Susan, your mom is my mom too.”

I met his gaze, and for the first time in weeks, I saw something visible in him, pain, frustration, maybe even regret.

“Damn it, Susan,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent days wondering why you were pushing me away, why you were so determined to make me hate you. And the whole time, you were suffering alone. I thought we've got each other's back? I thought we're supposed to go through storm together?”

I looked away.

“You should’ve told me,” he continued. “Instead, you let her get to you.”

I stiffened. We both knew who her was.

Elliot leaned forward, his voice lower now, almost breaking. “Did you really think I’d let you go that easily? My heart belongs to you and so is yours to me.”

I swallowed hard. “I made a deal, Elliot.”

“Screw the deal.”

I flinched at the sharpness in his tone.

“She bought you, Susan. And you let her. you let her manipulate you.”

I glared at him. “Do you think I wanted to? Do you think it was easy for me?” My voice cracked, emotion threatening to spill over.

Elliot exhaled harshly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Then why didn’t you fight? Why didn’t you come to me instead?”

“Because she's your mother!” I snapped. “Because no matter how much you love me, she will never think I’m enough for you. I want her to accept me the right way, but it turned out she wouldn't.”

His eyes darkened. “You think she decides that?”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Elliot, I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like I’m constantly fighting a war I can’t win.”

His fingers curled into fists. “Then let me fight for you.”

My breath hitched.

“I don’t care about the damn deal,” he went on. “I don’t care about the money, or her threats, or whatever bullshit she’s trying to pull. I care about you, that's all.”

Tears pricked my eyes, and I looked away, trying to steady myself.

Elliot reached for my chin, gently forcing me to meet his gaze. His touch was warm, grounding.

“I need you to tell me right now, Susan,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “Do you want to leave me? Do you really want us to go our separate ways?”

My heart missed a beat. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Because if you say yes, I’ll let you go,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper. “But if you don’t...if you’re leaving just because of her...then I need you to stop running.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

“I don’t want to leave, I need you.” I finally admitted, my voice breaking.

Elliot exhaled sharply, his grip tightening.

And then he kissed me.

Not soft, not hesitant. But desperate, fierce. Like he had been holding back for far too long.

I gasped against his lips, my hands fisting his shirt as he pulled me closer, swallowing my every breath, my sob, the broken piece of me.

The weight of everything...the pain, the loneliness, the fear...melted under his touch. His hands cupped my face, his lips tracing fire along my jaw, my neck.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against mine. “I’m not letting you go.”

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe it.