Page 112 of Sinful
"Talk to me," Elfe says, voice gentler now. "What's going on in that head?"
So, I tell her everything.
The fear that I'm making a mistake, the terror that I'll lose him, the uncertainty of burning down one life to build another with no guarantee it'll work.
The panic that I'm being stupid, that I'm moving too fast, that I barely know him and I'm risking everything on a maybe.
"Do you love him?" she asks when I finish.
"Yes."
"Does he love you?"
"He says he does."
"Then what's the problem?"
"What if it's not enough?" The question breaks open something in my chest. "What if love isn't enough to survive this? What if I gave up everything and it still falls apart?"
Elfe takes my hand, squeezes hard. "Then you rebuild. Again. Like you've done before. You rebuilt after Andrés, after the betrayal, after three years alonein Austin working shit jobs and racing for money instead of joy. You're good at rebuilding, Helle. It's basically your superpower at this point."
I want to laugh but it comes out as a sob.
"But here's the thing," Elfe continues, turning to face me fully. "You can't live your life afraid of what might go wrong. You can't let fear make all your decisions. Sometimes you have to jump and trust that you'll land—or that if you don't, you'll survive the fall."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I'll be there to help you get back up. Like always. That's what sisters do." She wipes a tear off my cheek with her thumb. "But Helle? I've seen the way he looks at you. That's not going anywhere. That's not a maybe or a probably. That's a definitely. He loves you. Really loves you. The kind that lasts."
"You think?"
"I know." She pulls me into a hug. "Now stop being scared and go get your fucking life."
We head inside and Mom corners me in the kitchen.
I'm making coffee—or trying to, hands still shaky from the phone calls and the conversation with Elfe.
"You're leaving soon," she says quietly. Not a question. An observation.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"To Texas. To him. Dad told me he was good, that I could go… and I feel like I settled things here with everyone."
"Yeah." The word comes out rough.
She's quiet for a moment, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, face thoughtful.
She looks tired—the kind of tired that comes from weeks of being stressed.
"I knew your father for years before we got together," she says finally. "Did you know that?"
I shake my head, turning to face her fully.
"He picked me up on the side of the road, beaten and broken, and I became ahorafor the club. I needed the protection." She smiles, but it's distant, nostalgic. "I can’t remember exactly what changed, but something shifted between us. We weren’t just friends anymore, and we wanted more."
"You don’t know what happened?"
"I fell in love with him." She laughs softly. "Some of my friends told me I was crazy, that an officer would never settle down with ahora."
