Her gaze softens slightly.
“That I’m yours,” he adds quietly.
Silence lingers between them.
“I don’t want to push you,” he continues, softer now. “But I need this, Lia. I need people to know I’m not that guy anymore.”
She studies him for a moment, then nods slowly.
“Okay,” she says. “But small. I’m not ready for more than that.”
Relief moves through him immediately.
“Small,” he agrees. “Only what you’re comfortable with.”
I lean back slightly, watching it all settle.
“Then we do this properly,” I say. “We plan it. We control it.”
She nods as the conversation ends.
But the tension doesn’t. Because when she glances at me, I see it.
The distance.
The hesitation.
The space I put there.
I want to close it. I want to take it back. I want to remind her exactly who she is to me.
But I don’t move. Because I still don’t trust myself. Not yet. Not until this is finished.
And as the silence settles again, heavier now, one thought locks into place.
I need to end this.
All of it.
Because the longer I hold myself back, the more I risk losing her in a way I won’t be able to fix.
And I’m not going to let that happen.
forty-eight
Liana
The morning settles into something quieter after breakfast.
Not silent, not heavy, just… softer.
I can feel it in my body first.
That’s what strikes me the most.
Not the room. Not the conversation. Not even the men around me.
My body.
