You and Elijah had been together for years, and he had never given you a reason to doubt him. He was patient, kind, and deeply devoted. But your past relationships had left scars—ones that made you overthink, ones that made you second-guess things even when there was no reason to. Elijah knew this, and he never belittled you for it. Instead, he always reassured you in the quiet, gentle way that only he could.

Tonight, however, the thoughts wouldn’t stop. You had seen a woman lingering a little too close to him earlier at a gala, her hand brushing his arm as she laughed at something he said. Elijah had, as always, been polite and distant, but your mind twisted it into something else. That, mixed with the fact that he had been unusually preoccupied lately, made your stomach churn with unease.

His phone sat on the nightstand. The temptation was unbearable.

You hesitated, staring at the device as your fingers twitched. Before you could even reach for it, a deep voice cut through the silence.

Elijah: “If you are searching for proof of my loyalty, you need only look at the way I love you.”

You turned sharply, finding him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. He had known. Of course, he had. Elijah always knew.

You swallowed hard, guilt creeping in, but before you could stammer out an apology, he was already stepping closer, cupping your face in his hands.

Elijah: “Your fears do not offend me, my love. But I do wish you’d let me silence them before they consume you.”

His voice was a murmur, lips brushing against your forehead as he exhaled softly, grounding you in the way only he could.

And just like that, the storm in your mind began to quiet.