“Neither did I.” My words come out softer than I intend.
There’s a pause.
“Let’s not make this the end,” he says. “Let’s make this a step.”
“I like that.” I mean it to my core.
When he kisses me goodbye, it’s soft and careful, like we’re both afraid of breaking something already cracked open.
I lean into it for half a second longer—just long enough to hurt.
When he pulls away, his hands linger at my waist, then drop.
He walks to his car without looking back.
I watch the taillights disappear down the road.
I stay there long after the sound fades, arms wrapped around myself, pretending this isn’t goodbye.
Pretending it’s just a pause.
Chapter Twenty-Three
SHAY
THE SHUTTER CLICKS.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, lowering the camera and double-checking the shot.
It is beautiful.
They’re always beautiful.
Cindy exhales a laugh.
I always memorize clients’ names. This close, trust is everything.
She wraps the silk robe tighter around herself. “I can’t believe I did that.”
I smile, recognizing the familiar feeling from almost every client who walks through my doors. The hesitation when they tug at the lace they never thought they’d wear.
The laugh that saysthis isn’t meright before they realize it actually is.
“You did amazing.”
