"Eventually. Maybe. I don't know."
She dries her hands, turns to face me.
"Can I give you one piece of advice?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No." She smiles. "Stop punishing yourself for their mistakes. Njal and Bjorn broke your trust. That's on them. But Gunnar? He's been nothing but good to you. Patient with you. There for you. And if you keep pushing him away because you're scared, you're gonna lose something real because of something fake."
"What if it doesn't work?"
"What if it does?"
The question hangs between us.
What if it does.
What if I let myself believe him.
What if I stop running.
What if I'm brave enough to try.
Before I can answer, Gunnar appears in the doorway. "Ingrid. Can we talk?"
My heart stops.
Magnolia gives me a pointed look. "Go," she mouths.
I dry my hands on a towel, trying to calm my racing pulse. "Okay."
He jerks his head toward the door. "Outside."
I follow him through the main room, past members still drinking and laughing, out the side door into the warm night air.
The parking lot is quieter.
Just the distant hum of the highway, the chirp of crickets, the pounding of my heart.
Gunnar walks to his bike, leans against it, and waits.
I stop a few feet away, arms crossed over my chest.
Armor.
"You wanted to talk," I say.
"Yeah." His eyes are steady on mine. "About last night. About this morning. About the fact that you're still running."
"I'm not?—"
"You are. You ran from my bed. You tried to run from that massage room. You've been avoiding me all night." He pushes off the bike, takes a step closer. "I get it. You're scared. But I meant what I said—this isn't like the past. This is different."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know you. The real you. Not the version you show everyone else. Not the wild child or the broken girl or whatever role you're playing. I see you, Ingrid. And I'm not running."
Tears blur my vision.
