All I could feel was the ghost of Charlotte's hand on mine.
How long until I forgot the warmth of her touch? How long until I looked at her face and couldn't remember why it mattered?
"Miles? Are you there?"
"Yes." I forced the word out. "Send me the information. I'll look at it."
"We need to schedule an appointment. Soon."
"I will."
I ended the call and stood on the sidewalk, phone limp in my hand, the world too bright and sharp and full of a future I didn't want.
When I walked back into the diner, Charlotte was watching the door. Her expression shifted the moment she saw my face, concern deepening into something closer to fear.
"Everything okay?" she asked softly as I slid back into the booth.
"Fine." The lie tasted bitter. "Just work. A case they want me to consult on."
She didn't believe me. We both knew it.
The warmth between us had cooled. I'd slammed the door, rebuilt the walls, and she could feel every brick.
"Miles—"
"We should probably call it a day." I signaled for the check, not meeting her eyes. "I have some calls to make."
She was quiet for a long moment. "Okay."
I paid for our meal as she looked for a moment to speak. We walked to the parking lot in silence, the afternoon sun doing nothing to dispel the chill that had settled between us.
Her car was parked a few spaces from mine. We stopped beside it, and she turned to face me.
"Thank you for coffee," she said, searching my face. "It was really good to see you."
"You too." My words came out flat, methodical.
She was so close. I could see the golden streaks in her green eyes, the worried crease between her brows. The pull between us was undeniable, something I couldn't name but couldn't escape.
It would be so easy to close the distance. To kiss her. To lose myself in the one good thing that had appeared in my life in years.
Instead, I took a deliberate step back.
"I'll call you," I said.
"When?"
I couldn't answer that. Couldn't make a promise I wasn't sure I could keep.
"Take care of yourself, Charlotte."
I turned and walked to my car before she could respond. I felt her gaze on my back like a physical weight. I didn't look back.
The drive home was silent. The medication was still working; my hands were steady on the wheel. But inside, everything was shaking.
I parked in my parents' driveway and sat there, engine ticking, staring at the house where I'd grown up and where I was now hiding from a future I couldn't control.
My phone buzzed.
