“Because this isn’t something I carry alone,” I finish.
That lands.
Fully.
He nods once, slow, deliberate, like he’s accepting something that isn’t simple, isn’t easy, but is completely real.
“Alright,” he says.
That’s it.
No panic.
No overreaction.
Just—
Acceptance.
“You’re not surprised,” I say.
“I am,” he replies. “I’m just not unstable about it.”
I almost laugh at that, a quiet sound that feels lighter than anything else in this conversation.
“Good,” I say.
He glances down again briefly, then back up.
“We adjust,” he says.
“Yes.”
“We plan,” he adds.
“Yes.”
“And we don’t let this become a weakness,” he finishes.
I meet his gaze.
“It won’t,” I say.
He nods.
“I know,” he replies.
Silence settles again, but this time it feels full in a different way, not just two people standing in the same space, but something more, something extending beyond just us.
“This is what we’re building,” I say quietly.
“Yes,” he agrees.
“Not just systems,” I add.
“No.”
“Something that lasts,” I finish.
