“No.”
The word feels different now.
Stronger.
His thumb brushes lightly across my knuckles.
Just once.
Grounding.
And something in me settles.
Not completely.
Not permanently.
But enough.
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” I say softly.
“What?”
“After everything.”
A faint pause.
“What did you think it would be like?”
“Quieter,” I admit. “Colder. More… controlled.”
“And this isn’t?”
I glance at our hands.
At the way he hasn’t moved away.
At the way I haven’t either.
“No,” I say.
His gaze holds mine.
“Good.”
The word is quiet.
But it carries.
I shift slightly closer—not a lot, just enough that the space between us isn’t quite so defined anymore.
He notices.
Of course he does.
But he doesn’t comment.
Doesn’t push.
