Like I might disappear if he moves too fast.
“You’re not… running?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“No.”
“Why?”
I huff a small, incredulous laugh.
“After everything we just went through, that’s your question?”
“It’s a good question.”
“It’s a terrible question.”
“Answer it anyway.”
I study him.
Really study him.
And for the first time?—
I don’t see the man I left.
I don’t see the reckless, impulsive, charming disaster who lived like consequences were optional.
I see this man.
The one who stood in front of a monster and chose people over himself.
The one who sat on the floor and played music for his son like it mattered more than anything else in the world.
The one who looks at me now like I’m not something to win or impress?—
But something to build with.
“I don’t think you’re him anymore,” I say softly.
His brow furrows.
“Him?”
“The man I left,” I clarify.
He goes still.
“I deserved that,” he says after a moment.
“You did.”
“And now?”
“Now,” I say, stepping closer, “I think you grew up.”
He lets out a quiet breath.
