I shift onto my side, arm tucked under my pillow. "Control. I don't have it up there."
"That's not really an answer."
I exhale. "If the plane goes down, I can't fix it. Can't get out. Can't do anything. I just... sit there and wait for the outcome."
Silence.
I hear the slow rustle of sheets as she shifts in the dark.
"That's why I hate most things," she says.
I almost laugh. "Yeah. Funny how we're both terrified for opposite reasons."
"What do you mean?"
"You're scared things will fall apart if you let go. I'm scared of wanting something—" I stop. "And losing it anyway."
Her breathing is the only sound for a long moment.
"Tomorrow night," she says. "At the gala."
"What about it?"
"If we walk in together. Dance together. Act like a couple." She pauses. "That's the first time we'll have done that in front of anyone. It's sort of a declaration."
I stare at the shadow of the rack. "And?"
"And I don't know if we're actually doing it—being a couple—or if we're just playing the part for one night. And then Monday we go back to being whatever this is."
My chest tightens. "You think I'm playing a part?"
"I think you're good at being present for a moment. A weekend. A shoot. A trip." Her voice is steady, but there's an edge underneath. "But I don't know what happens after."
I press my palm flat against the mattress. "What are you asking me?"
"I'm asking if tomorrow is real. Or if it's just optics."
I push up onto my elbow so I can see her shape in the dark.
"I'm not pretending," I say. My voice comes out rougher than I planned. "When we walk in there tomorrow, it's real. Nothing I do will be for optics."
"But what about Monday?"
I lie back down. Stare at the ceiling again.
"I don't know," I say finally.
She doesn't respond.
"I've spent my whole life being good at leaving," I continue. "Packing light. Not putting down roots. I don't know how to be good at staying yet."
"Yet?"
"I want to try."
The air conditioning hums. The fabric on the rack shifts.
"And I have to get better at not knowing what Monday looks like," Sam says. Her voice is softer now, but it wavers at the end. "That's hard for me."
