"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For showing me all of this."
The words settled between them, carrying more than they should have. Eleanor did not look away, neither did he, and for a moment, neither of them seemed entirely certain what would come next. They stood close without remarking on it.
Eleanor leaned forward once more, her hand resting lightly against the edge of the telescope as she adjusted it with care.
"It is clearer now," she said softly.
Julian stood just behind her, near enough that he could see the slight shift of her movement as she steadied the telescope again.
"I was beginning to think you had misled me," she continued.
"I do not wish to make a habit of that."
"And I appreciate that," she replied, smiling. "It is one of very few things about you that has been unpredictable."
"You would not like it if I were."
"You seem very certain of that."
"I am."
She remained there for another moment, looking, taking in the detail before finally stepping back. When she turned toward him, she did not put distance between them.
"The evening has taken a direction I did not expect," she said. "You have brought me outside, showed me the sky, and yet you expect me not to draw conclusions."
"I expect you to draw whatever conclusions you wish."
Her gaze lingered on him as she dared herself to say what she was thinking.
"It feels almost romantic."
Julian did not answer immediately. His attention remained on her, focused in a way that made the space between them feel smaller than it already was.
"What happened in London?" he asked.
The question came low, without any attempt to soften it, though it carried none of the sharpness it might have earlier. Eleanor stilled. For a moment, she did not move, and she did not speak. The faint trace of amusement that had lingered in her expression faded without resistance. She could have deflected, but she did not.
"There was a man," she said.
The words came slowly, as though she had not intended to say them aloud and now could not take them back.
"He paid me attention," she continued. "Not in a way that was improper, of course. It was careful, and exactly what it should have been. I thought I understood what it meant. I thought he was choosing me, in the way one is meant to be chosen. There was no declaration, but it was built gradually. He sought me out. He listened. He said things that made it seem as though I mattered to him."
Eleanor’s gaze drifted past him, fixed somewhere in memory rather than the present.
"I allowed myself to believe it," she continued. "I did not question it because I wanted it to be true. That is the part I find most difficult to accept."
Her throat tightened slightly, though she continued.
"There was another woman. I knew of her, of course, but she was never presented as anyone of importance and I believed it would be alright. I was wrong, of course. He told me himself, not because he felt any obligation to, but because it was the cleanest way to leave me. There was no care in it, nor any consideration for how it might have made me feel."
"Eleanor…"
"He said I had been in the way, that I had imposed myself, as though I had created something that had never truly existed. I tried to understand what he meant. I thought perhaps I had misunderstood something, that I had seen meaning where there had been none, but I know that I had not. Even so, he made it very clear that I had simply been mistaken, and then he left."