“Tell me I’m wrong,” I say.
She doesn’t.
She can’t.
I sit back, giving her space she doesn’t ask for but desperately needs.
“See?” I say quietly. “You feel it too.”
She grips her bag tighter. “This… this is going to ruin everything.”
“Or,” I counter, “it’s going to change everything.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No,” I say. “Not with us.”
The barista returns with our coffees, interrupting the moment. Ruby sits back fast, like she’s trying to put physical distance between us, but the energy stays exactly where it was.
Charged. Warm. Unavoidable.
I take a slow sip of coffee.
She stares at hers like it might detonate.
“You said you wanted to make things simple,” she says finally, her voice small.
“I do.”
“And this doesn’t feel simple.”
“No,” I say. “It feels real.”
Her breath hitches.
“And real scares you.”
She looks away, not because she’s offended, but because I hit the mark.
I lower my voice again.
“Let me take the lead, Ruby.”
Her eyes snap back to mine.
I hold her gaze steadily.
“You want to go slow,” I say. “Fine. I can do slow.”
She exhales shakily.
“But don’t mistake slow for distance,” I add. “I am not stepping back.”
Her lips part again, but she says nothing.
Good.
Let the silence work for me.
