She tried not to think about the end of the night. About the parking lot. About how quiet it had been once the doors shut behind them.
She failed.
The standup came back first. The wind. The way they had stepped in without hesitation.
And then later — when they were saying good night, keys in hand, the lot nearly empty — she had leaned in and kissed them.
Just once. Just once. A quick, impulsive brush of her mouth against Tilly’s cheek.
Tilly had gone completely still.
For half a second, she had almost stayed.
Long enough to see what they would do.
Almost laughed it off. Almost said something reckless like ‘don’t make that weird.’Almost waited to see if they would turn their head and meet her halfway.
Instead, she had panicked.
That was the part she couldn’t stop replaying. Not the kiss itself. The retreat.
Savannah rolled onto her side, heart thudding like it was trying to get ahead of her thoughts. She could still see it, that frozen second, the way she’d known immediately she’d crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.
She hadn’t explained. She hadn’t stayed. She’d gotten in her car and left.
Fearless people didn’t kiss coworkers in parking lots.
She stared at the dark wall until her eyes ached.
She thought about texting Tilly to apologize.
Or to explain. Or to pretend it hadn’t meant anything.
She didn’t.
She turned the phone face down on the nightstand and switched off the lamp.
Outside, the city kept moving.
Inside, Savannah lay awake, cheek pressed into her pillow, listening to her heartbeat try to outrun itself.
She told herself she wasn’t lonely.
She told herself she didn’t care.
She told herself she wouldn’t do it again.
Even though a part of her already wanted to.
She’d crossed a line like this once before. Not publicly. Just enough.
It hadn’t blown up. It never did. Instead, her name stopped appearing on certain rundowns. She stopped getting paired with the same people. A producer started saying things like, “We’ll keep it simple this time,” as if simplicity was a favor.
She learned quickly what impulses cost in a newsroom.
Eleven
Tilly woke up already aware of their own face.
