“Good,” I say. “I’d hate to disappoint.”
“And impressions of me?” he asks.
I take a moment. “Controlled, serious, a little sharp around the edges. Slightly intimidating.” He arches a brow. “But,” I add, smiling. “Underneath all that, funny, protective, and caring.”
We’re still holding hands when it hits me, not the past, not the hurt, but the quiet possibility of something new. Something better that we’re creating out of choice.
“Coffee?” I ask, nodding toward the mugs we’ve abandoned.
He squeezes my hand once before letting go. “I’d like that.”
We sit on the sofa, coffee cooling between us as conversation drifts into easy things like work and life in general. We laugh together at nothing especially funny, but I guess we’re both feeling giddy that we’ve found a way to move past all the bad stuff and take a step forward.
At some point, without thinking about it, I lean into him. He stills instantly. I feel the question in his body before he asks it, so I answer by resting my head against his shoulder like it’s no big deal. He exhales, slow and careful, like he’s been holding that breath for weeks, and then his arm comes around me gently.
“I’m not promising anything,” I murmur.
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he replies quietly.
I tip my face up to his. “But I’d like to try again, a fresh start.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear those words,” he says.
I close the gap, my lips brushing his. Gentle, careful, and wanted. It isn’t rushed. Or hungry. Or desperate.
It’s steady.
When I pull back, his forehead rests against mine.
“Hi,” he says, softer this time.
“Hi,” I answer.
And for the first time since everything broke apart, I feel whole again. Like we’re just starting our journey.
Epilogue
LEONI
Six months later.
The office is quiet now. The chairs pushed in, computers humming softly, the smell of coffee lingering even though no one’s had one in hours. I shut down my screen and gather my things, smiling to myself as I flick the light off above my desk.
I love it here.
Hannah stuck her head around my door earlier and reminded me, again, that I don’t have to stay late to prove anything. That doing my job well is enough. That I don’t need to earn my place by running myself into the ground. And convincing her I want to be here because I love it, was impossible.
Outside, the city is glowing gold with early evening light. I spot Warren straight away, leaning against his car, phone to his ear,suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up. He looks… settled. Not softer, just steadier.
He ends the call when he sees me.
“Hey,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Hey.”
We walk side by side toward the river, fingers brushing before he looks at me, still always checking, making sure I’m okay. I nod, smiling.
His hand finds mine, our fingers lacing together. “How was work?” he asks.
