Noah
“You don’t have to say it yet.”
Mia stared at me as if I had spoken in another language.
Her hand remained inside mine, but the rest of her body had gone completely still.
I understood why.
She had prepared for a reaction.
Disappointment.
Distance.
Perhaps even anger.
Instead, I remained beside her on the sofa, holding her hand while the photograph she posted continued spreading across social media.
“You mean that?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You are not going to become strange?”
“I am already strange.”
“Noah.”
“I know what you mean.”
I lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.
“I am not going to punish you because you are not ready.”
Her eyes searched mine.
“What if I never become ready?”
The question hurt.
Not enough to change my answer.
“Then we deal with the truth when
