His thumb brushed lightly along my spine.
“I’m telling you why it matters now.”
That stopped me.
Because that was different.
Not the origin. The shift.
I held his gaze, trying to track the meaning behind that.
“You’re already embedded there,” I said slowly.
“Yes.”
“In what?”
A pause.
Then, “In ways that make it easier to be where I need to be.”
“That’s still vague.”
“It needs to be.”
I exhaled, tension coiling and uncoiling in my chest.
“You’re asking me to accept something without understanding it.”
“I’m telling you what you need to know right now.”
“And the rest?”
“You’ll see when it matters.”
I studied him, irritation flickering—but it didn’t fully take hold.
“You’re not worried I’ll walk away?” I asked.
His gaze didn’t shift.
“No.”
The certainty in that answer made my breath catch.
“Why not?”
His hand moved again, sliding from my back to my waist, drawing me closer until my leg pressed fully against his.
“Because you’re not done,” he said.
The words echoed something he’d already said.
But now?—
Now they felt different.
More grounded.
