“I had people pack everything up and bring it here,” I repeat calmly.
“You won’t be missing anything.”
He stares at me for a second like he doesn’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.
We eat for a few minutes in silence. It’s not awkward. There’s too much history sitting between us. Too much unsaid. And then—
“Why?”
I look up. He’s watching me now.
“Why did you do it?” he asks.
“The auction. Buying me.”
“Why not just call me? Text me? Ask me to come over?”
“Why go through all that?”
I set my fork down slowly.
“Because this was the only way,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“We haven’t seen each other in years, Harley.”
“And the last time we were together…” I let the sentence trail off.
He looks away for a second.
“You think I didn’t consider reaching out?” I continue.
“You think I didn’t think about calling you?”
“But I also knew you.”
“You would’ve hesitated,” I say.
“You would’ve questioned it. Wondered why I was suddenly back.”
He doesn’t deny it. Because we both know I’m right.
“And after everything that happened…” I add more quietly, “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then his hand moves, resting on top of mine.
“I would’ve,” he says.
I look at him. His eyes are steady now.
“I’m glad I got to see you again,” he adds.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
Something tightens in my chest, Especially when he continues—
“After everything… after the last time.”
