Page 59 of Her Fearless Ronin

It was possible for a yakuza to be happy, and it was possible for him to make a woman like me happy. He just needed to want it.

“Hope! Come, don’t be silly. We’re done,” she called with laughter.

I opened the door and noticed Hoka now holding their baby. The weight of his gaze almost made me retreat, but Violet’s inviting pat on the sofa drew me in.

“I can’t thank you enough, Hoka,” I said, my voicethick with emotion.

His eyes shimmered with something unreadable. “That’s what families do,” he replied softly. “Though I wish things had ended differently.”

I nodded. My gaze swept around the room, searching for any sign of Jiro and Oda, but they were conspicuously absent. A knot of unease settled in my stomach, and I couldn’t help but ask, “Where are Jiro and Oda?”

Hoka hesitated, sharing a fleeting look with Violet. “They’re preparing. We leave for California tonight.”

“Tonight…” My heart sank. “Right, yes.” That realization hit me harder than I expected. Standing abruptly, I stammered, “I should let you get ready.” My scattered thoughts led me to my forgotten bag on the mantel. “I’ll return the clothes.”

Violet rose, her voice trembling, “Hope, wait—”

But Hoka silenced her with a subtle shake of his head. The finality of that gesture stung.

He wanted me to go too, of course. Why would he spend time with me? I was not part of the family, nor was I ever considered part of it. Jiro’s obvious absence said more than words ever could.

My cheeks started to burn with the fake smile I tried to keep despite the rejection I was feeling. You would think I was used to it by now, but it did not hurt any less.

My face warmed as my eyes started to sting with unshed tears. “I’ve got to go. Lots of work. And don’t worry, this”—I gestured vaguely—“never happened.”

Reaching the door, I paused. “Tell Jiro and Oda… thanks. For everything.”

Violet’seyes glistened, but Hoka replied, “We’ll see you soon, Hope.”

With a final nod, I slipped out, swallowed by the hall to return to my life.

With a steaming latte that cost more than I’d like to admit and a reluctant vow to cover every holiday shift for the coming year, I managed to win back Max’s trust after my unexplained two-day absence. His frown softened when I told him Jiro had left and Leo, with all his complications, had decided to move on.

I hardly believed how I could even utter those words without my voice breaking, especially after the harrowing sight of my brother’s tragic end just a day ago. Perhaps my heart had already mourned Leo long before, grieving for the brother he once was, not the stranger he had become.

The silence of my apartment was deafening, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of events that had recently unfolded. Every secret was out, every threat neutralized. Yet, in the midst of newfound freedom, an overwhelming sense of loneliness consumed me.

I sank into the worn-out sofa, flipping through a college catalog. Once, the idea of a fresh start, free from the chains of my past, was all I yearned for. But that was before Jiro’s return, reigniting a childhood infatuation into a blazing passion.

As if the universe sensed my thoughts, my phone buzzed beside me, Jiro’s name lighting up the screen. Glancing at the clock, it was past eight. Was he calling to say goodbye from California?

Torn, I let the phone ring, not ready to face the emotions his voice might stir up.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the heaviness that settled in my chest after ignoring Jiro’s call. The silence of the apartment was suddenly interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Hesitating for a moment, I approached and opened it to find Jiro standing there, holding a bag of fish tacos.

“I figured you wouldn’t answer,” he admitted. His voice a soft caress against my senses. “But leaving without seeing you one last time?” His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of the emotions I was desperately trying to hide. “That’s not me.”

With my heart in my throat, I stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

As he walked past, he glanced at the college catalog on the table. “Planning for the future?” he asked with a hint of sadness in his voice.

I nodded, trying to find the right words. “I need to figure things out,” I whispered, my voice betraying the turmoil inside. “Now that anything is possible.”Anything except a future with you.

Jiro’s gaze intensified, and before I could react, he closed the distance between us. Our lips met in a desperate kiss, filled with longing and unspoken words. The world around us faded as the intensity of our connection took over.

His hands roamed my back, pulling me closer while mine tangled in his hair. The intensity was overwhelming, every touch igniting a fire that threatened to consume us. We moved together, a dance of passion and longing, eachtouch a silent plea, each kiss a promise.

But as the heat between us grew, Jiro pulled away, his chest heaving. “We shouldn’t,” he whispered, his voice filled with anguish. “This isn’t just a goodbye, Hope. It’s an ending.”

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