"I know."
But we both know it changes everything.
She falls asleep in my arms. I can tell by the way her breathing evens out, the way her body goes completely soft and pliant.
I stay awake.
Listening to her breathe. Feeling her heartbeat against my arm. Memorizing the weight of her, the warmth of her, the way she fits against me like she was made for it.
Guilt creeps in like poison.
She doesn't know that I’ve been reading her private thoughts for years. She doesn’t know that I’ve been watching her for a long time.
She doesn't know I tracked her GPS and that I know exactly where she went, how long she stayed, when she started driving back.
She doesn't know Friday's dinner is a test. That the investors want to see me "settled" before they trust me with their money. That she's part of a business strategy I set in motion before I ever sent that check.
She thinks this is real.
And maybe it is now. But it started as a lie.
And lies always come out.
I should tell her. Should wake her up right now and confess everything. The photograph, the stalking, the business deal. All of it.
Face her anger. Her hurt. Watch her pack her things and leave.
But I'm a coward.
I hold her tighter instead.
"I'm sorry," I whisper into her hair.
She doesn't hear. She's asleep, safe in my arms, not knowing she's in bed with someone who's been lying to her from the start.
Tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow.
Or the next day.
Or after the investor dinner.
Or maybe never.
I don't know. All I know is this: she's here now. In my bed. In my shirt. In my arms.
And for tonight, that's enough.
I finally let myself sleep, still holding her. Her hair smells like my shampoo now. Her body fits against mine perfectly, like she was made for me. Like I've been waiting seventeen years for exactly this.
Maybe I have.
The last thought I have before sleep takes me is this: I might lose her when she finds out the truth.
And losing her is going to destroy me.
Tonight, I just hold her and pretend everything is as simple as it feels in this moment.
Tonight, I let myself believe the lie.
