Because what the hell could I possibly say that would help?
Your sister had a secret family and it's beautiful and terrifying and it makes me want things I've never let myself want?
I watched you with that little girl and something inside me that I thought was dead just broke wide open?
I think I'm falling for you and that's the most dangerous thing that's happened to me in years?
No.
None of that would help.
So, I just held her hand and let the train carry us through the city.
We got off at her stop and walked back to Rose's apartment building, still wrapped in silence that felt sacred. Like speaking would shatter something fragile and important.
Inside the apartment, I took off my coat with deliberate, careful movements, hung it over the chair where it had hung before.
Trying to give her space. Time. Whatever she needed to process what had just happened.
"You want anything?" I asked quietly, as gently as I knew how. "Coffee? Tea? Something to eat?"
She hadn't said a single word since we'd left Étienne's apartment. Not one syllable the entire journey back.
She turned to me slowly, movements precise and deliberate like she was executing a plan she'd already fully formed.
And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world—like she'd been thinking about this and had simply made a decision and was now acting on it—she started removing her clothes.
One piece at a time.
Never breaking eye contact with me.
The red sweater came off first, pulled over her head in one smooth, unhurried motion. Then the shirt underneath, revealing skin I'd only imagined in moments I'd tried very hard not to imagine.
My brain stopped functioning entirely.
Higher reasoning just ... shut down.
She kept going with calm deliberation. Unfastening her jeans. Pushing them down over her hips. Stepping out of them. Panties following. Everything coming off until there was nothing left.
Until she stood completely naked in the soft light filtering through Rose's windows.
And she was even more beautiful than I'd imagined in all those moments I'd tried desperately not to let myself imagine her exactly like this.
But I was frozen with something very close to panic.
Because this wasn't just want anymore.
This wasn't just physical attraction or tension that had been building.
This was something bigger. Something that would fundamentally change everything, if I let it happen. Something I couldn't take back or walk away from once we crossed this line.
When she was completely bare before me, she walked forward with calm certainty, took my hand in both of hers, and said quietly but firmly:
"This is going to happen. Now."
Not a question.
Not a request.
