100k views.
200k.
500k.
A million.
My heart races. My palms sweat.
But underneath all the noise…
There’s still one more thing I have to say.
To her.
“Ready for phase two?” Lane calls on FaceTime.
I nod.
“It’s time,” she says. “The softly devastating romantic bomb.”
“Is that your professional term?” I ask.
“Yes.”
She grins.
“Now that people see you’re not hiding from what you did, it’s okay to show them who you are when you’re in love.”
I swallow.
We decide to keep this one simple.
No mansion. No portraits. No piano.
Just the cliffs.
Where she and I began.
I go back at midnight.
The sky is clear.
Stars scattered overhead.
The wind is still brutal, but the air feels cleaner somehow.
I prop the phone up against a rock, angle it so the dark ocean is behind me, the sky wide above.
No team. No mic. No lighting.
Just me.
The little red dot starts blinking.
“Hey,” I say, a shaky smile pulling at my mouth. “It’s me again. Leo.”
I suck in a breath.
