“But not this one.”
“No.Not this one.”He looks down at his shaking hands.“I’m scared I’ll forget what this feels like.Whatyoufeel like.”
“You won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because some things get written into your bones.”
He reaches for my hand, and his fingers are ice or maybe mine are.
“Promise me something,” he says.
“Anything.”
“Don’t disappear while I’m gone.Don’t become a ghost waiting for me.I don’t want that for you.”
I swallow hard.“I promise.But you promise me something too.”
“Name it.”
“Don’t give up.Fight for who you want to be, Nate.”
He exhales shakily.“I love you, Leni.Not some future version of you.You—right now.”
I press my hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my palm.
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow,” I echo.The word tastes final.
He nods.
“Will you tell me where you’re going?—”
“Len, I think it’s best you don’t know.And it’s best we don’t contact each other until I can get my shit together.”He looks at me and I see the heartache in his eyes.“I can’t bear the thought of letting you down anymore.It kills me.”
“Okay.”I say, trying to hide the hurt and the fear of not knowing when and if I’ll see him again.
He hesitates, then crosses the room.
For a second, I’m sure he’s leaving.His hand drops.He turns away, shoulders tight, like he’s bracing for impact.
Then he stops.
He looks back at me—and something in his face breaks.Not loud or dramatic.Just this raw, unguarded want he’s been fighting the entire night.His eyes search mine like he’s memorising me, like he’s terrified this is the last time he’ll ever be allowed to look.
And then he’s in front of me, his lips crashing onto mine.It’s aching.It’s everything we’ve been holding back—his mouth pressing into mine like he’s trying to stay, like he’s trying to pour every unsaid thing into the space between us.His hands come up to my waist, gripping hard, like if he doesn’t anchor himself to me he’ll come apart.
My chest tightens painfully, my whole body lighting up and caving in at the same time.
When we break apart, it feels like tearing skin from bone.
“It’s so fucked up,” he murmurs, voice breaking as he leans into me.“How selfish I am—to want you this much.Right now.”
His breath ghosts my mouth, shallow and uneven.I can feel the tremor running through him—the war between wanting me and doing the right thing ripping him open from the inside.
