Ch. 9: Rules of the Game
The city never really slept, and tonight neither did he.
"You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered.
Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." "You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to.
The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. "You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to.
She thought of all the versions of herself she might have been, and wondered which one he saw.
She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." Money could buy a great many things, he had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most. Money could buy a great many things, he had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most.
By the time the light faded, nothing was decided, and yet everything felt different.