Read: This Friday night? Seven-thirty? There’s an Italian place I like—Marina’s. Tiny, lots of plants, good wine, better pasta.
I pictured it: warm lighting, clink of cutlery, low hum of conversation. A table in the corner. A man I’d only known by collarbones and words, sitting there with his hands around a glass, looking up as I walked in.
My stomach swooped. Not just with dread. With something perilously close to anticipation.
Me: What if you don’t like me in person?
The question slipped out before I could stop it. Honest enough to make my teeth ache.
Read: I already like you. Seeing your face won’t undo that.
Read: Honestly, I’m more worried you’ll take one look at me and run screaming.
Tension left my hands, adrenaline once again ebbing.
Me: You survived the “voices in my head scream at me” confession. I’m sure I can handle the rest.
Read: We’ll test that theory. For what it’s worth, tonight just made me more sure—not less—that I want to know you outside this app.
The words settled over me, a weighted blanket of praise. Inside my head, the chorus muttered half-heartedly, searching for new lines and coming up empty.
Me: I’ll see you Friday.
I set the phone on the nightstand, screen down, its last vibration still tingling in my palm.
And for the first time in a long time, the silence that followed didn’t bite. It didn’t echo with accusations.
It just was.
I lay back on the mattress, towel forgotten, hair damp against the pillow, and inhaled long and deep. The air went all the way down this time.
So I lay there and breathed.
Deeper and deeper until sleep pulled me under.
Chapter 7
***
Morning came harsher than I expected, last Thursday’s meeting still clinging to the edges of my thoughts.
The meeting invite had landed in my inbox Saturday morning, right at the edge of the forty-eight-hour window I’d promised the investors. Small. Ordinary. Just another calendar block in a wall of them.
Except this one said:
Location:Elion Headquarters.
Attendees:Damien Holt, Maria Chen, Tessa Morgan, Nathan Bell
Date and Time:Thursday, May 21st, 10:00 a.m. EST
Description:Conference Request
Sarah confirmed within minutes. Jennifer went straight into war-room mode. David printed so many packets our office manager ordered more toner. Kevin, traitor that he was, remained suspiciously calm and told anyone who would listen about the new beta blockers his wife had “strongly suggested.”
As for me, I was… okay.
And okay is enough, Read would say.
