"I've had five weeks to practice."
"Clearly." She uncrossed her arms, and something in her posture shifted. Not quite softening, but... opening. "You really hurt me, Alex. When I stood on that dock and you didn't say anything—" Her voice wavered. "I felt so stupid. For thinking I'd meant something to you. For hoping."
"You meant everything to me. You still do."
"Then why couldn't you justsaythat?"
"Because I'm an emotionally constipated idiot who's spent his entire adult life hiding from anything that might actually make him happy." The words came out with a self-deprecating edge. "I'm not saying that's a good reason. I'm saying it's the truth."
Lily let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "At least you're self-aware now."
"Megan would be so proud."
"Your sister?"
"She's been telling me I'm emotionally stunted for years. I finally started listening."
Another silence, but this one felt different. Less like a wall and more like a bridge being tentatively constructed.
"I don't know if I can do this again," Lily said quietly. "The hoping. The trusting. I spent five weeks convincing myself I was over you, and then I walked into that lobby and saw you and—" She shook her head. "I can't go through that again. I won't."
"I'm not asking you to."
"Then what are you asking?"
Alex considered the question carefully. Whatwashe asking? For forgiveness? For a second chance? For her to upend her entire life for a man who'd already proven he couldn't be trusted with her heart?
"I'm not asking for anything," he said finally. "I'm just telling you the truth and letting youdecide what to do with it." He met her eyes. "You're the brave one, Lily. I'm just finally trying to catch up."
Lily studied him for a long moment. He watched her process—the hurt, the hope, the risk of trying again.
Finally, she spoke.
"Dinner."
Alex blinked. "What?"
"You can buy me dinner. Tonight." Her chin lifted. "And we can... talk. Figure out if there's anything here worth figuring out."
"That's—yes. Absolutely. I know a place?—"
"Nothing fancy." She held up a hand. "I've had enough fancy for one day. Somewhere real. Somewhere you'd actually go."
"There's a seafood place near the harbor. Old school. Paper napkins and plastic baskets. Best fried clams in Boston."
"That sounds perfect." A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "But Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"This is a trial run. Not a guarantee. You hurt me once, and I'm not sure I trust you not to do it again." Hervoice was steady, but her eyes were vulnerable. "So if we're doing this, you need to actually show up. Not just tonight—every day. I need you to be brave enough to stay."
The words echoed back to him—stay—and Alex felt the full weight of what she was offering. Not forgiveness, exactly. Not a clean slate. But a chance. A real one.
More than he deserved.
Everything he wanted.
"I can do that," he said, his voice rough. "I want to do that. For you."
