I take a breath. Start to pull away.
"Stay."
One word.
His voice is rough. Low. Like it cost him something to say it.
I freeze.
I should get up.
But I don't.
I settle back against his shoulder.
I stay.
We don't talk.
Minutes pass.
Maybe ten. Maybe twenty.
I lose track.
His heartbeat is steady under my ear. Strong. Alive.
I don't know what to do with that.
I don't know what to do with any of this.
"Dante."
"Yeah."
"Can I ask you something?"
His chest rises. Falls.
"You can ask me anything."
I shift slightly. Not pulling away. Just adjusting so I can see his face.
The light from the window catches his jaw. The stubble that's grown in over the past few days. The sharp line of his cheekbone.
He's beautiful.
I hate that he's beautiful.
"You said you fell in love with me," I say. "In thirty seconds."
He doesn't respond.
"But you've been with the Sartoris for twenty years," I continue. "You've met hundreds of people. Thousands. Women who are part of that world. Women who understand it."
Still nothing.
"How is it possible that you never fell in love before?"
