Naomi’s hand brushed mine, grounding me. “El… breathe.”
I exhaled shakily, realizing I’d been holding it since he first appeared on-screen.
“He’s risking everything,” I whispered. “His career, his reputation—he’ll be branded the villain for telling the truth.”
Naomi shook her head gently. “No. The villain would’ve let you take the hit. He just made himself the hero.”
My eyes stung. I looked away from the TV, trying to blink the heat out.
She nudged me lightly. “You should call him.”
“I can’t,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “Not yet. He’s still in the middle of it.”
She nodded, understanding, but her gaze lingered—soft, knowing.
When the screen finally cut to commercials, the silence in the office felt enormous. The world outside carried on—rain, cars, sirens—but inside, everything was still.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, the echo of his words still burning through me.
I regret the noise. Not the truth.
He’d stood there, under those lights, surrounded by people waiting to tear him apart, and he’d chosen honesty over safety.
I just stood there for a moment, staring at the blank screen where his face had been seconds ago, unable to process the weight of what I’d just seen. My knees gave out before my mind caught up, and I sank into the nearest chair.
He didn’t have to say any of that. He could’ve let PR spin it, let the headlines die down. He could’ve chosen silence—the safe kind that kept your career intact and your sponsors happy. But instead, he’d stood there, exhausted and unshaken, and he’d protected me.
I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the tremor in my hands. “He’s going to lose everything because of me,” I whispered, voice raw.
Naomi didn’t answer right away. I felt her move closer, her presence a quiet anchor in the storm. She crouched down beside me, placing a steady hand on my knee. “Or,” she said softly, “maybe he finally found something worth losing for.”
I dropped my hands, blinking through tears that blurred the dull gray of the office. Naomi’s face came into focus—calm, certain, the kind of steady I couldn’t find in myself.
I swallowed hard. “I can’t keep hiding behind good behavior.”
Her brow furrowed. “Ellery?—”
But I was already standing, grabbing my coat off the back of the chair.
Naomi rose with me, alarm flickering in her eyes. “Where are you going?”
I slid one arm through a sleeve, my movements sharp, decisive. “I… I have to see him."
She blinked, caught between pride and panic. “Do you even know where he is?”
I glanced toward the TV, at the last frozen frame still lingering in my mind—him under those brutal lights, jaw tight, eyes unflinching. I didn’t need an address. I knew exactly where he’d go.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I do.”
Naomi exhaled, shaking her head but smiling just a little. “Go, then. Before I change my mind and tackle you.”
I gave her hand a squeeze, gratitude lodged somewhere between my ribs and my throat. Then I turned toward the door.
The hallway felt colder than I remembered, each step echoing like punctuation. By the time I hit the front doors, the rain was falling harder, soaking through my coat before I’d even buttoned it properly.
But I didn’t care.
Every drop felt electric—sharp, alive, cleansing. The air smelled like wet pavement and second chances.
