My stomach twists as the message disappears into the digital void. There's no taking it back now. No leaving the door open for Evan's convenient rescue package with all its hidden costs and unspoken expectations.
His response comes fast. Almost too fast, like he was sitting there waiting, already composing his reply before I'd even decided.
You're making a mistake. Call me when you realize that.
I show Stone, turning the phone so he can read Evan's presumptuous certainty. He snorts, that rough orcish sound that's become oddly endearing.
"Confidence. Attractive quality."
"Right?" I shake my head, feeling lighter somehow despite everything crumbling around us.
Another message buzzes through before I can pocket the phone. This one from Tess.
Damage control meeting tomorrow. My place. Ten AM. Bring coffee and your orc. We're fixing this mess.
I show Stone the screen again, watching his expression shift from amusement to something more guarded. "She wants to help."
"She hated me last week." His voice is carefully neutral, but I catch the uncertainty underneath.
"She's protective. It's different from hate." I reach up, touching his arm. "She's my best friend. She just needed time to see what I see."
"If you say so." Still skeptical, but willing to trust my judgment.
I relax against him, letting myself sink into his warmth and solidity. Real. Present. Mine in a way that feels both brand new and ancient, like something I've been searching for without knowing what I was looking for.
"This is going to get worse before it gets better," I say quietly, voicing the truth we've both been dancing around.
"Probably." No false reassurances. Just honesty.
"The tweets. The scrutiny. The city making examples of us." I catalogue the disasters waiting in the wings. "Councilwoman Blair will use every sound bite, every screenshot, every misstep to prove her point."
"Yes." His arms tighten around me.
"You could still walk away. Find a different placement. Avoid the mess." The words hurt coming out, but I force myself to say them anyway. To give him the exit I'm not sure I could take if our positions were reversed. "Start fresh somewhere that doesn't have angry internet mobs and politicians looking for ammunition."
He wraps his arms around me more firmly, solid and immovable. "Could. Won't."
"Why not?"
"Because I want the mad thing. The impractical, illogical, completely unreasonable thing. With you." He kisses the top of my head. "Even if it breaks dishes."
I smile against his chest. "Aunt Rene would like you."
"Your aunt sounds terrifying."
"She is. You'll love her."
We stand like that. Holding each other while my phone continues its futile buzzing. The world demanding attention, opinions, justifications for choices that are ours alone.
Let them talk.
Let Evan offer his conditional rescue.
Let the city review and scrutinize and make their judgments.
I've spent too long choosing safe over true. Practical over real.
Not anymore.
