I swallow hard.
“To beseen.”
She freezes.
I press on.
“I’ve spent half my life pretending. Playing roles. Charming clients. Threatening rivals. Loving you like I was allowed to. Hiding Ben from my own hopes because I thought I didn’t deserve him.”
She doesn’t look away.
“I’m not asking for absolution. I’m asking you to look at me and see who Iam now.Not who I was. Not who the galaxy painted me as. But this.This. Trying. Failing. Starting over. Trying again.”
The wind picks up. Her hair moves like fire in a storm.
She turns away.
I think I’ve lost her.
Then she speaks. Quiet.
“Do you remember the first time I caught you lying?”
I blink. “Which time?”
She huffs a humorless laugh. “The club. Under the Nova Rail. I was wired. You told me you were an importer of ‘luxury orbital textiles.’”
“Oh gods,” I groan. “Don’t remind me.”
“You winked at me. Said, ‘the fabrics aren’t the only thing that’s silky.’”
I cover my face with both hands. “Mortifying.”
“You were so smug.”
“I thought you were just another pretty face looking for a story.”
“I was.”
She pauses.
“But I didn’t expect to findyou.”
My hands drop.
She’s still facing away, but her voice is bare now. Like the words are scraped raw on the way out.
“You made me laugh. You made mefeel. Like I wasn’t just some overworked beat writer looking for her next hit. You…sawme.”
I reach for her hand.
She doesn’t stop me.
Our fingers link. Her skin is cold.
“Why now?” she asks.
I know what she means.
