“So were you.”
She smiled.
“You’ve changed.”
The words took me back instantly.
The guest room.
The coffee.
The tension.
The morning everything shifted.
I stepped closer.
“So have you.”
Michelle wrapped her arms around my waist.
“For the better?”
I kissed her forehead.
“Definitely.”
She leaned against me.
Then, with a mischievous smile, she glanced toward the stairs.
“You know, I still occasionally walk into the wrong room.”
I laughed.
“Not buying that excuse anymore.”
“Good.”
This time when she took my hand and led me upstairs, neither of us was pretending anything had happened by accident.
And for the first time since the day I entered her house with a duffel bag and six uncertain weeks ahead of me, the future did not feel frightening.
It felt chosen.
