“Because you don’t sit still when something breaks,” he replied. “You rebuild.”
I huffed a quiet breath. “I don’t even know what I’m rebuilding.”
“You don’t have to yet.”
I turned slightly, looking up at him. “That’s not how I usually operate.”
“I know.”
His mouth curved faintly, like he found something about that amusing.
I rolled my eyes. “You like that I’m off-balance.”
“I like that you’re honest,” he corrected.
Before I could respond, my phone lit up again.
Harper.
This time, I answered.
“Well, well,” she said immediately. “The woman who detonated her entire career.”
I smiled despite myself. “Hi, Harper.”
“Don’t ‘hi’ me. Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I resigned.”
Silence.
Then, sharply, “You what?”
“I resigned,” I repeated, softer this time. “This morning.”
There was a pause long enough that I could picture her processing it—pacing, probably, one hand in her hair, Luca watching quietly from the side.
“That’s … big,” she said finally.
“It is.”
“And you’re not spiraling?”
“Not yet.”
A beat.
“I’m coming over,” she said.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I’m already grabbing my keys.”
“I’m at Cassian’s.”
