“It does,” Bennett said. “To me.”
When they left the restaurant,the night air was cool and sharp. They walked side by side down the street, close but not touching.
At the corner, Jasper stopped.
“Can I?” Jasper asked, then gestured vaguely.
Bennett understood. He nodded.
Jasper took his hand.
The contact was simple. Public. Unremarkable to anyone else.
Bennett’s heart thudded once, hard. Then settled.
They stood there like that for a moment, the city moving around them, indifferent and alive.
“This is nothing,” Jasper said softly.
“I know,” Bennett replied.
Jasper squeezed his hand once, then let go without making a show of it.
They parted with a quiet promise instead of a kiss. Another dinner. Another step forward.
When Bennett got home later, he did not feel as if he were bracing for fallout.
He felt like he was building something.
Slowly. Deliberately.
And for once, that did not feel like fear.
It felt like a choice.
The conversationwith Emily happened on Thursday over video call. Bennett had put it off twice already, rescheduling with flimsy excuses. But Jasper’s words kept echoing: I will not be your secret.
Emily’s face filled the screen, familiar and expectant. “Okay, what’s going on? You never want to ‘just talk.’”
Bennett took a breath. “I’m seeing someone.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Okay. That’s… good? Why do you look like you’re confessing to a crime?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Bennett, everything with you is complicated. Who is she?”
“He,” Bennett corrected, and watched his sister’s expression shift from surprise to understanding.
“Oh,” she said softly. Then, “Okay. Tell me about him.”
And Bennett did. Haltingly at first, then with more confidence. About Jasper. About the hotel. About being terrified and certain at the same time.
Emily listened without interrupting. When he finished, she smiled. “You sound happy.”
“I am,” Bennett admitted. “I think.”
“You think?”
