I shove my hands into my pockets as we walk, and Warren falls into step beside me.
“If you could go back,” I say, staring straight ahead, “what would you change?”
I feel his gaze on me before he looks forward too. “There are so many things I’d change, Lee,” he says quietly. “But saying them doesn’t make them possible.”
“If you’d asked me that a week ago,” I admit, “I’d have said I wish I’d never walked into Baxter Corporation.”
“But you wouldn’t say that now?”
I glance at him. “Would it really have changed anything? Isaac would still be dead. And maybe… maybe I would be too. Who knows where your father would have stopped.”
His jaw tightens.
“If only we could go right back to the beginning,” he says. “Make sure our fathers never crossed paths.”
“It was the sins of our fathers that brought us here,” I reply. “And I’ve seen things I wish I hadn’t. I know things I wish I didn’t.” I hesitate, then add, “But I think you really were trying to protect me from it all.”
His laugh is short. Unamused. “I didn’t do a very good job.”
“I saw the funeral,” I say. “Well… what they showed on the news.”
“The final circus act,” he mutters. “I thought I’d feel something. Sadness. Anger.” He exhales. “Instead, it felt like a weight lifting. Like I was finally free.” He glances at me. “Is that cruel?”
“No,” I say immediately. “It’s honest.”
He nods, relieved.
“What about Erik?” I ask. “How is he?”
Something flickers across his face, hesitation, restraint, as though there’s something he wants to say, but chooses not to. “He’s good. He went to Italy. He needed space and family.”
“A fresh start?”
He gives a small, genuine smile. “That’s what he called it. He loves it. My uncle likes having him around.” He pauses a beat. “Maybe he won’t come back.”
“And you?” I ask. “Don’t you ever want to go there? Be with the rest of your family?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t imagine being that far away from you.”
The words land between us, unexpected and exposed. He winces instantly, as if he didn’t mean to say them out loud.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean…” he sighs. “Even if I can never see you again, I don’t want to be so far away. Just in case.”
I don’t reply, but his words hit my heart, causing it to ache. Because the truth is, I can’t imagine him being that far away either.
We stop outside my apartment building, the moment stretching.
“I know this might sound forward,” I say carefully, “but would you like to come up for a coffee?”
His eyes widen. He wasn’t expecting it. “Uh— yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that.”
I laugh softly at the way he stumbles. “Good,” I say. “Come on.”
We step into my apartment, and I shrug out of my jacket, hanging it over the chair by the door. Warren does the same, placing his carefully over the arm of the sofa.
I move into the kitchen and flick the kettle on.
He appears in the doorway, leaning lightly against the frame, watching me like he’s memorising the moment.
