Page 71 of The Sound Between Us
And that’s too much. Too honest. Too dangerous.
“Thirty seconds,” I say. “That’s how long you’ve got before I walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.”
He nods. He’s been waiting for the countdown.
“I don’t know what I’m asking for,” he pauses an uneven thump of my heart. “I just know I had to see you. Had to tell you that morning... it wasn’t what I meant.”
“Harrison—”
“I know thirty seconds isn’t enough. But I couldn’t let tonight end without trying.”
The room hums around us—clinking glasses, silk rustling, distant laughter. But we’re in a bubble now; our own little storm.
“And what exactly are you trying for?”
He looks at me. Really looks. “A second chance to not be a knob.”
And then the lights dim. A voice rises above the crowd: “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The presentation will begin in five minutes.”
The moment fractures. Reality rushes back in.
He doesn’t look away. “Will you think about it?”
“Think about what?”
“Whether there’s any possibility you could forgive the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made.”
I stare at him. My lungs tight; my heart reckless. “I have to go.”
“I know.”
I turn and head for the family table. But I feel him watching me—a weight, a tether, a song I haven’t stopped humming since the day he left.
And despite everything—I’m already thinking about it.
