Page 181 of Legacy
“I don’t get off—” I laugh, shaking my head. “Okay, wait. No, that’s fair.”
She grins. I feel it. That old spark between us, the one that used to ignite with a look, a comment, a shared silence.
And I remember the way her laughter used to echo off the walls like a song I’d never stop playing.
The way she stole the last bite of dessert and pretended I gave it to her.
How she used to fall asleep against me like she belonged there.
My hand shifts.
From her ankle to her calf. Slowly.
She still doesn’t move.
Her eyes meet mine. Unflinching. Familiar.
And I swear we both lean in at the same time. A breath between us. The kind of closeness that can’t be faked. That lives in the bones. That never really died.
Her hand grazes mine. My fingers twitch, ready. Waiting.
And then—
She blinks. Collects herself.
“I need some air,” she murmurs, pulling back gently.
My heart stutters, but I nod. “Balcony’s open.”
She stands, barefoot and graceful, and walks toward the glass doors like she isn’t walking away from the moment we almost had. Her hair sways behind her. And I let her go.
For now.
I gather the empty plates and pizza box, carry them to the kitchen in silence. The water runs. The hum of the dishwasher starts. The mundane things that fill the space where I wish she still was.
But I glance out the window and see her; hands on the balcony rail, chin tilted to the wind.
And Ineedto be with her.
I slide the glass door open.
She doesn’t move.
The city stretches out before her. Her hair caught in the wind. Not hiding. Not running. Just waiting—for what, I don’t think she even knows.
But I do.
I step out.
Close the door behind me.
And then I move to her.
My chest brushes her back. She tenses, only slightly. I raise my hands, one to each side of the railing—caging her in.
Her breath shifts.
She doesn’t turn.
