Chapter 32

Sitting across from Christian and Haiden, I cradled my coffee cup between my hands, feeling the warmth seep into my fingers. The little café was packed, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweetness of pastries. It was a comforting moment, yet my mind raced with uncertainty.

"Hailey," Christian began, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, yet there was an edge to it. "We just want you to be happy."

Haiden nodded, his dark brows furrowed. "Yeah, babe. You don't know how much we worry about you at that place. It's not safe."

I bit my lip, feeling the weight of their concern. They had both been supportive ever since I started dating them. My job as a stripper had brought in decent money, but it had also drawn lines between us that I could sense were growing dangerously thin.

"I appreciate that," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "But you guys have to understand—I've been dancing since I was eighteen. It's all I know. It's… my freedom."

"Freedom?" Haiden challenged gently. "Or is it just familiar? There's a difference, you know?"

I took a deep breath, swirling around the coffee in my cup. Haiden had a point. Dancing had given me a sense of independence, but it was also a safety net, even with all the risks. Gradually, it had become part of my identity. But with Noah—my best friend—going through his own troubles, I felt like I was balancing on a tightrope, and the safety net was starting to fray.

"I can't just leave Noah there alone," I confessed, looking at the two men. My heart ached thinking about him. He had been my rock, always shielding me from the harshest storms. He lost his mother recently, and with his emotional state, I worried he wouldn't be able to cope if I left.

"He'll be okay, Hailey. You're not responsible for his happiness," Christian replied softly, his gaze sincere. "You have to find your own path, your own happiness."

"I know," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "But being with you guys feels like I'm tied down, and sometimes I just want to be… free."

Haiden reached out, placing his hand on mine. "You don't have to choose one over the other. You can dance and still have us. But it's important you do it because you want it—not because you feel obligated to anyone."

I leaned back, taking in their words. The guilt was heavy, a weight I had carried for too long, torn between my loyalty to Noah and my desire to explore a life outside the neon lights and loud music.

"What do you want, Hailey?" Christian asked, his eyes searching mine. "What do you truly want?"

I took a moment, allowing myself to dream freely. "I want a place of my own, maybe a studio to create art. I've always wanted to paint," I confessed, a flicker of excitement igniting in my chest. "Art is something personal, for me. But it means building something from scratch, something that isn't tied to my past."

"There you go," Haiden said, a small smile breaking through. "That's a start. Maybe plan a way to transition out of dancing when you're ready?"

I felt a spark of hope. "What if Noah found a support group? Something to help him with his grief? If he could find his footing, maybe I could step away and dive into what I wanted."

"That's the spirit," Christian encouraged. "You deserve to explore your passions without feeling tied down by expectations. And Noah will understand, especially if you encourage him to find support."

The realization settled in like a warm blanket. I had been so focused on not abandoning Noah that I had neglected my own dreams. I wanted to fly, not just exist—a delicate balance I needed to find.

With the conversation swirling in my mind like the steam rising from my cup, I knew I would have to talk to Noah. It wouldn't be easy, and there were no guarantees, but perhaps I could help him while finding my own freedom, too.

"I'm going to talk to Noah," I declared, the resolve tightening in my chest. "I need to have his back just like he's had mine, and maybe it's time for both of us to find a better way forward."

Christian's smile brightened, and Haiden squeezed my hand again.

"You got this, Hailey," he said, and for the first time in a long while, I believed him. Life was a dance, and maybe it was time for me to choose the rhythm that truly felt like mine. I raised my coffee cup, a toast to the unknown journey ahead. "To freedom, in every sense."

They raised their cups, and together we clinked them, sealing an unspoken promise—to support each other as we chased our own dreams, however challenging the steps might be.