Now I just think it was a preview of how he would end up handling everything else.
You know, impossible to fully reach and all that fun stuff.
Stop it.
You’re not reopening that file.
But even as I think it, I know it’s too late. The file’s open. The evidence is right here. Standing three feet away smelling like leather and sea salt and—
“I should go,” I hear myself say.
His expression shifts. But it’s too dark, so I can’t quiet read it. “Don’t.”
It’s one word. Quiet. Not a command. Not a plea.
Just...
A request.
And somehow that’s the thing that keeps me standing there when every instinct I have is screaming at me to leave.
Before he can get too close again.
Before I have to remember why I left the first time.
“Corin—”
“Just sit with me,” he says. “Watch the fireworks. For a minute.”
A minute.
Like that’s all he’s asking for.
Like that’s a reasonable request.
Like a minute with him hasn’t historically turned into hours I can’t get back.
But I’m already lowering myself to the sand.
See?
This is why you can’t have nice things.
You have the self-preservation instincts of a paper lantern in a hurricane.
He sits beside me. Not too close. But close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. Close enough that if I shifted slightly our shoulders would touch.
We sit in silence.
The ocean rolls in.
Rolls out.
Above us, the night transforms. More lanterns lift into the sky from the resort behind us. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. They drift upward like lazy fireflies, their paper bodies glowing warm against all that starlight.
My lawyer brain reminds me again that these are illegal in the Bahamas. Fire hazard. Marine life endangerment. Literal beach litter waiting to happen. I could cite the specific regulation if pressed, because apparently my brain stores that kind of information instead of useful things like how to have a normal conversation with my ex.
But the emotional side of me is actually grateful for the illegal sky decorations. Because watching glowing paper wishes float into the atmosphere is significantly less complicated than figuring out what to say to the man beside me.
