They both stopped. Miller gestured for Astoria to go first, but Astoria shook her head.
“You,” Astoria said. “Please.”
Miller looked down at her hands, then back up. No more hiding, no more running.
“I need to tell you something I should have said before I walked out of your house.” She kept her voice steady, even though her pulse was racing. “I'm in love with you, Astoria. I have been since…I don't even know when. The night you told me about Valerie. Maybe before that.”
Astoria went very still as the coffee shop sounds faded to nothing.
“I know I hurt you,” Miller said. “I know walking away made you think Valerie was right about you. That you're too difficult, too much, impossible to love.” She shook her head. “But you're not. You're the easiest person I've ever loved. The hard part was staying away.”
Astoria's eyes were bright. Her throat moved as she swallowed.
“I love you too,” she said, her voice rough.
Miller's breath caught. The words she'd needed to hear, spoken plainly, without hesitation.
“I should have said it then,” Astoria continued. “I should have fought harder when you left. I was too scared.”
“We were both scared.”
“I don't want to be scared anymore.”
Miller turned her hand over, lacing their fingers together. “Then don't be. I'm not going anywhere.”
Neither of them moved to pull away. Miller's thumb found the ridge of Astoria's knuckle, traced it absently.
“What do we do now?” Miller asked.
Astoria’s mouth curved into a small smile. “I don't want to sit in a coffee shop anymore.”
Miller’s eyebrows raised slightly. “What do you want?”
Astoria’s thumb traced a slow circle against Miller’s palm. “I want to take you home. I want to kiss you without worrying who's watching. I want to start this the right way.”
Miller’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Then take me home.”
Astoria stood, still holding Miller's hand. She left a twenty on the table—far too much for two coffees and a modest tip—and led Miller toward the door.
Outside, the August sun was warm on Miller's face. Astoria's hand stayed wrapped around hers as they walked to the parking lot.
“Follow me?” Astoria said, her voice lilting up.
Miller nodded. “Always.”
Astoria’s smile reached her eyes, and Miller slid into her car and followed her home.
The drive to Cliffside wound along the coastal road, leaving the main parts of Phoenix Ridge behind. Miller kept Astoria’s silver Audi in sight, her hands steady on the wheel, even as her pulse refused to settle.
The last time she’d made this drive, she’d been rehearsing how to end things and walk away when every part of her wanted to stay.
Today was different. Today, she was choosing to stay.
Astoria's house emerged from the coastal pines like something out of an architectural magazine. It was all clean lines and glass, perched on the cliff's edge as if daring the ocean to challenge it. Miller pulled in behind Astoria and cut the engine, taking a moment to breathe.
Astoria was already stepping out of her car and waiting for her. The afternoon wind caught her hair, and she tucked it behind her ear, a small, human gesture that made her breath catch.
“Are you okay?” Astoria asked as Miller approached.
