Lori waited.
Her heart was suspended somewhere in her throat, each beat a painful throb against her pulse points. The room had grown smaller somehow, the walls pressing inward, the air thick and heavy with anticipation.
Attia's hand still rested on her cheek. His dark eyes searched her face, as if he was looking for something—an answer, a sign, a reason to take the leap.
When he finally spoke, his words surprised her.
"I don't want to be unfair to you," he said quietly. "Or selfish."
Lori felt like she couldn't breathe.
She waited, frozen, while the silence stretched between them like a wire pulled taut.
"I don't want either of us to regret," he continued, his thumb tracing a slow, absent circle on her cheekbone. "To live with 'what if.'"
Her heart cracked open.
"Yes," she whisper
