I see the moment it lands.
He dips his chin, and he backs the fuck off just like I wanted him to.
“Yeah, sure,” he mutters, already stepping away.
Good.
The door shuts behind him. And the room shifts back into place.
Bella is still buzzing, lost in the music, chewing on a dumpling while replaying the track in her headphones.
“Eat fast. We got more work to do,” I tell her.
She nods, distracted, grabs her plate, and drifts toward the couch—away from us.
Exactly where I want that little rising star.
Because now? Now I’ve got her all to myself.
I build my plate without thinking.
Movements automatic.
Controlled.
Unlike the storm under my skin.
I can feel Hilary beside me.
Not touching. But there.
Close enough that it’s all I’m aware of.
She’s being careful again. Holding back.
Like she’s trying to pretend nothing just happened.
Like she didn’t feel what I felt.
I won’t allow that. So, I wait.
Let her choose where she sits.
She takes a chair at the table.
I follow. Slide into the seat right beside her.
Not across.
Not distant.
Next to her.
Close.
Deliberate.
I’m claiming that space like it’s mine—because it is. I dare anyone to argue at this point.