“Is this the real breakup?” he asks.
I shake my head, tears freezing on my cheeks. “I don’t know what this is. I just know I still love you. And I still want you. And everything’s changed.”
“I know,” he says again, and this time it sounds like acceptance, not surrender. “Let me take you home.”
But first we take a picture of us.
A selfie that’s honest. Raw. Unfiltered. Us.
I add a hashtag#thistimeshedanced #wintergala #cliffsatmidnight
I’m standing beside Leo when I hit post.
The comments explode instantly. Fire emojis. Question marks. Hearts. Conspiracy theories already spinning themselves into knots.
Are the king and queen back together??
Leo glances at the screen, then at me.
“Well,” he says lightly, but his voice isn’t light at all. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
I don’t answer.
We drive back in silence.
Before I get out, he reaches for my hand.
“Don’t close the door on us,” he says. “Just don’t. Let’s start over. Like normal people.”
I laugh wetly. “Normal?”
“I’m serious,” he says. “I’m going to text you tomorrow. Ask you out. You’re going to say yes. We’ll go to the movies and it’ll take me twenty minutes to work up the nerve to put my arm around your seat. We’ll go to the arcade and waste fifty bucks on stupid games and eat stale popcorn.”
I sniff, smiling despite myself.
“That actually sounds perfect,” I say.
He smiles back. Hopeful. Careful.
“I think,” I add softly, “I like the sound of that, Leo Holt.”
“I already sent extra security to Aunt Susan’s house,” he added. “These families? They don’t take humiliation lightly. Or punishment.”
My heart kicked hard. But I didn’t flinch.
Let them come. Let them try.
They already lost.
Because this time?
I wasn’t alone.
And I wasn’t afraid.
He pulled up to Aunt Susan’s house and didn’t even hesitate. Got out, came around to my side, opened the door. Gentle. Steady. Still him.
When we reached the porch, I turned to face him, expecting the usual awkward goodbye—an apology, a check-in, something to break the tension.
