chapter 12:*" February "*
345 Words
February in Florida means Valentine’s displays at every CVS.
For Maya + Elias, it meant answering questions they’d been avoiding.
*February 8, Miami*
Mayabhad her first gallery group show at a Wynwood pop-up. 3 pieces. One was _Gold, Set_ — the small onyx + ceramic study from grad school.
Elias was on crunch week. He left work early. No excuse. He just did it.
He showed up with coffee, not roses. “You don’t need flowers. You made the art.”
*The Question*
After the show, Aisha cornered them by the wine table.
“So,” she said, grinning. “Are you guys serious or just surviving?”
Old Maya would’ve lied to keep peace. Old Elias would’ve gotten possessive.
Maya answered first: “We’re building. Some days that looks like surviving. Some days it looks like choosing each other on purpose.”
Elias nodded. “We’re not perfect. We’re in therapy. We have a whiteboard. That’s serious to me.”
Aisha raised her cup. “Gold answer.”
*The Call*
That night, Elias’s dad called from Nigeria. 11pm Miami time.
“Valentine’s,” he said. “When are you coming home? When are you marrying her?”
Old Elias would’ve shut down, or promised something he didn’t mean.
New Elias: “Dad, I love you. I’m not coming home this year. I’m not proposing this year. I’m building a life that doesn’t break people. If you want details, I’ll give them. If you want a wedding date, I don’t have one.”
He hung up. Hands shaking.
Maya didn’t rush to comfort him. She sat next to him.
“That was hard,” she said.
“It was honest,” he said. “I’m tired of being scared of him.”
*Valentine’s Day, Studio*
No dinner out. No gifts.
They taped red paper hearts to the whiteboard. Under each one: a boundary they kept that month.
_I said no to extra work._
_I asked for help with rent._
_I told my dad the truth._
Maya drew a small gold line between their two hearts.
- Writer
