That part didn’t listen.
“And this?” His hand came out of nowhere, closing over mine just long enough to pull the shredded napkin free and drop it to the side. “This thing you’ve got going on where someone actually sees you and doesn’t let you disappear?—”
“Rhys, I?—”
“That’snota trap. It’s not some illusion waiting to screw you over. It’s agift.”He squeezed my hand. “And you don’t have to tear it apart just because the rest of your life taught you to expect the worst.”
“I know that.I do.It’s just… hard.”
“But you’re allowed to want him.” One corner of his mouth pulled up. “And for the record? He’s terrifying. Which, honestly, works in your favor.”
My fingers shifted under his, pressing back for a second before I pulled away.
“He is.”
But not to me.Not anymore.
Intimidating implied distance—something you adjusted around so you didn’t get caught off guard. Most of my life had been exactly that: reading rooms before I stepped into them,measuring tone, watching hands, and tracking every small shift so nothing ever hit me unprepared.
Henry didn’t leave space for that.
Everything seemed to recede the second he focused on me, like the world loosened its grip and I didn’t have to hold it together by force. No scanning. No bracing. No constant recalculating of where I stood or how quickly it could change.
I could just exist.
My thumb found the rim of the mug again, the motion steady even as everything else in me ran at a breakneck speed.
Explaining it would flatten it into something smaller than it actually was.
It wasn’t just that hesawme.
People said that shit all the time, like it was simple, like being seen didn’t usually come with conditions or expectations or the subtle pressure to become something easier to hold.
With him, there was none of that.
No adjustment. No reshaping. No version of me that needed to be easier.
He just… took me as I was, and I didn’t realize how much I’d been waiting for the opposite until it didn’t happen.
Because somewhere between standing outside his office door like I needed permission to breathe in his space and the way his lips felt against mine—I stopped feeling like I had to earn it.
Maybe it should’ve scared me.
But it didn’t.
It felt like stepping into a place I didn’t know I’d been looking for, and realizing, too late and all at once, that I wasn’t trying to leave.
The scrape of ceramic against the table pulled me back, the waitress sliding a small cup between us without breaking stride.
Rhys didn’t even look up before grabbing it, bringing it straight to his mouth like it was oxygen. A low, satisfied groandragged out of him on the first sip, eyes closing briefly like he’d just been brought back to life.
“Jesus,” he muttered into the rim. “Finally. Something that doesn’t taste like a cavity.”
He took another sip, studying me over the edge of the cup. “…You’re gone.”
I blinked. “I’m sitting right here.”
“Nope.” He lowered the cup just enough to point at me. “You’regonegone. Like, mentally halfway back in his office.”