Her eyes widen slightly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Of Cole?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
I hold her gaze.
At the way she’s still here.
At the way she’s trying to calm herself inside a life that isn’t simple anymore.
“You,” I say.
She blinks. “Me?”
“I’m not worried about Cole,” I explain. “I know how he works. I know what to expect from him.”
“Then why?—”
“Because you don’t belong in that part of the equation,” I cut in. “And you’re in it anyway.”
She goes quiet.
“And that scares you?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t control that variable,” I say. “And I don’t like variables I can’t control.”
She exhales softly, her expression shifting. “That’s very on brand for you.”
“Yeah.”
She leans back slightly, studying me. “You barely know me. Enough to care about me, I mean.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t feel like that.”
She holds my gaze, then looks down at her hands. “I’m scared too.”
“I know.”
“Not just of… all of this,” she adds, gesturing around us. “But of this.” Her hand moves between us. “How fast it is. How much it is.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re still here.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
I don’t have to think about it. “Because you are.”
