She always noticed.
Her gaze dropped briefly to my hands.
Then back up.
“You do that a lot,” she said.
“What?”
“React first. Think later.”
I leaned back slightly in my chair.
“Is that your diagnosis?”
“No,” she said. “Just observation.”
A beat.
Then she added:
“It’s kind of… honest.”
That word again.
I didn’t like it.
But I didn’t argue.
Outside, rain started easing off.
Inside, nothing really moved.
Except the space between us.
That kept changing without permission.
Rowan reached for her bag.
“Rowan,” I said before I could stop myself.
She paused.
Looked at me.
“What?”
I didn’t know why I stopped her.
Didn’t have a plan.
Just—
“Are you always like this?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting for people to disappoint you.”
