Page 129 of Smoke and Glitter

Her mouth twitches. "You said it like you were expecting the ceiling to come down."

I glance up.

"Still there."

"Strong construction."

A short laugh gets out of me.

Bex smiles, but she doesn't turn the moment into something bigger than it is.

I look back at the plate.

"I love her."

It feels different the second time. Not easier exactly. More accurate.

Bex folds her arms loosely across her chest. "Do you need me to say something?"

"No."

She stands and picks up the clipboard.

At the door, she pauses.

"Sam."

"Yeah?"

"I'll be out front."

I nod.

After she leaves, I sit alone with the sentence.

I love her.

It came out clean because Bex wasn't the person it belonged to.

She can hear it, go back downstairs and finish the night. She doesn't get to decide what happens to me after I say it.

Autumn does.

That is the difference.

I don't go to Autumn's hotel. I don't text her that night either. A picture of the plate would be easy. So would Look what showed up. She'd probably answer. She might even be happy for me. That doesn't make it mine to send. She gave me the morning. I need to stop treating every feeling I have afterward like a reason she should give me something else.

So the plate stays on my desk and the phone stays in my pocket.

On Sunday, Autumn goes back to London.

I don't ask what time her flight leaves. I don't find an excuse to be near the airport. By late afternoon, I catch myself thinking about where she might be and make myself stop doing the math.

She knows where I am.

More importantly, she knows I heard her.

Monday passes.