Chapter 5 - Not Yet, But Soon
Daniel survived.
The bullet had grazed his shoulder during the chaos, but it missed bone and arteries. He spent two days in the hospital, angry at Noah, embarrassed by the attention, and determined to make it clear that he did not need anyone’s protection.
Lyra respected that.
She also knew Daniel deserved a life far away from Moretti family wars.
Noah paid for his medical bills anonymously.
Daniel knew anyway.
“You know,” Daniel said to Lyra one evening, “he is in love with you.”
Lyra stared at him.
Daniel winced as he adjusted his shoulder bandage.
“I’m not saying that because I like it.”
“You don’t?”
“I think you deserve someone who brings you flowers, not armed bodyguards.”
Lyra looked down.
“And?”
“And I think he is trying.”
That was the problem.
Noah was trying.
Over the next few weeks, the west side changed.
Two of Marco’s gambling operations closed.
Several businesses once forced to pay protection money received envelopes containing records, debt releases, and instructions to contact legal aid if anyone threatened them again.
Noah stopped appearing at the tailor shop without warning.
Instead, he called.
He asked if he could visit.
And when Lyra said no, he stayed away.
That mattered more than she expected.
One month after Daniel’s rescue, Noah returned for his final fitting.
He came alone.
No gun visible.
No Paulie at the door.
The shop was warm now. Daniel had repaired the heater completely, and the old place no longer smelled like damp wool and cold dust.
Lyra adjusted Noah’s suit jacket in front of the mirror.
The dark fabric fit him perfectly.
“You look respectable,” she said.
“I am offended.”
“You should be. It is expensive.”
Noah watched her reflection.
“I have something to tell you.”
Lyra sighed.
“That sentence still worries me.”
“I know.”
He reached inside his coat and removed the gold lighter.
The same lighter that had snapped shut when she said she did not have a boyfriend.
He placed it on the cutting table.
“I am leaving the west side.”
Lyra looked at him.
“What?”
“I turned over evidence against Marco and the men connected to him. The police will make arrests soon.”
“You are testifying against your own family?”
“They stopped being family a long time ago.”
The words were quiet.
Heavy.
Real.
“What will you do?” she asked.
Noah looked toward the tailor shop windows.
“I own a legitimate logistics company outside the city. I plan to run it.”
“And Paulie?”
“He says he is coming with me because he does not trust anyone else to keep me alive.”
Lyra smiled despite herself.
Noah stepped closer, but not too close.
Not close enough to make her feel trapped.
“I am not asking you to come with me,” he said. “I am not asking you for anything.”
Lyra’s heart beat harder.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I wanted you to know that I heard you.”
She said nothing.
“You told me you did not belong to me,” Noah continued. “You were right. You never will. You are not something to own, claim, or protect against your will.”
His eyes stayed on hers.
“But if one day you want someone beside you, someone who chooses you without taking your freedom, I would like to be that man.”
The shop became silent.
No threats.
No demands.
No dark promises made in the language of possession.
Just a man standing in a suit made by her hands, asking for nothing.
Lyra looked at the gold lighter on the table.
Then she looked at Noah.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked.
A surprised laugh escaped him.
“No.”
“Not yet?”
“No,” he said softly. “Not yet.”
She stepped closer and straightened his tie.
Their faces were inches apart.
Noah did not move.
He waited.
Lyra had spent years believing that love meant danger. That attention came with a price. That powerful men always wanted to control the things they claimed to care about.
But Noah was learning.
And so was she.
She smiled.
“Then maybe,” she said, “you should ask me again sometime.”
Noah’s eyes softened.
“Would tomorrow be too soon?”
“Probably.”
“Next week?”
“Still probably.”
He nodded seriously.
“I can wait.”
Lyra opened the front door for him.
Outside, the rain had finally stopped.
Sunlight spilled across Fourth Street, turning the puddles gold.
Noah paused at the threshold.
“Lyra?”
“Yes?”
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “your father was right.”
“About what?”
He looked down at the suit she had made him.
“Every man deserves one good suit for the day he proves he is more than the world thinks he is.”
Then he walked out into the sunlight.
Lyra watched him go.
She did not know what came next.
She did not know whether Noah Moretti could truly leave his old life behind.
She did not know whether she was ready to let anyone into hers.
But for the first time, she was not afraid of the answer.
May you like
Not yet.
But soon.
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