Page 120 of Empty Net
His hand closes around mine.
The first time he asked permission in a hallway, he was trying not to harm me. Now he is trying not to let me harm both of us by pretending harm is inevitable.
I hold on.
"I am sorry," I say.
"I know."
This time the words do not feel like a trap.
"I love you," he says.
The sentence is quiet. No plan attached. No demand. Just there.
I breathe in. The room stays standing.
"I know," I say.
He almost smiles. Almost.
"Efficient."
"I'm working up to the rest."
"Okay."
I look at our hands.
"I love you too," I say.
It comes out low. Rough. Mine.
Caleb's grip tightens.
The door is open.
The light is on.
I do not leave.
NOLAN
We do not go to Caleb's apartment right away.
This matters.
The body wants what the body wants, and the body has recently developed a strong opinion about Caleb Wren in rooms with doors that close, but this cannot be fixed by heat first. I know that. He knows that. Knowing is not the same as doing, but today we manage both.
We sit in the film room with the screens dark and the door open.
Not touching.
Not hiding.
The building moves around us. Footsteps in the hall. Dani arguing with someone about clip tags. A cart rolling past. A distant laugh from the locker room. The world refusing to stop because two men in a dark room have finally decided to stop punishing each other for being afraid.
Caleb tells me the outlet is stalled. Legal demanded evidence. The photo is grainy. The source used enough language to sound close to the recusal and not enough to prove anything. HR is auditing access. Alderman is furious in a way Caleb describes as quiet, which is the only kind of furious Alderman does.
