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Truer.
Sam stared at me like she did not trust herself to speak yet.
So I kept going.
“Not because the window closed. Not because Lena told me what I wanted. And not because of you.”
A small line appeared between her brows.
I stepped closer.
“Because I want this city. I want my team. I want my sister’s kitchen and my nephew’s bad architecture. I want the room that knows me even when I am being impossible.”
Her eyes shone, but she did not look away.
“And yes,” I said, quieter now. “I want you in that life. But I am not making you the reason I stay. That would be too much weight to put on you, and it would give me a way to blame you if I got scared later. I am choosing San Antonio because it is home.”
Her breath came out unsteadily.
“Evan.”
“I want you,” I said. “But not halfway. Not hidden in files. Not guessed at. Not turned into something easier because the real thing is hard to hold.”
She blinked once, and a tear slid down her cheek.
She looked annoyed by it.
That felt right.
“I don’t want halfway either,” she said.
“Then don’t give me halfway.”
“I won’t.”
“And I won’t disappear when I am scared.”
Her expression softened in a way that made my chest hurt.
“That sounds difficult for you.”
“It sounds terrible.”
She gave one quiet laugh.
The sound loosened something between us.
Enough to let air in.
I reached for her hand.
Slowly.
Because trust after a hit did not move fast. It tested the ice first.
She met me halfway.
Her fingers slid into mine.
