I don’t know how long we stand there, the two of us suspended in the quiet warmth of the greenhouse like time decided it didn’t want to move forward without permission. Ray hasn’t stepped closer, but he also hasn’t stepped away. He’s just… there. Solid. Watching me with that steady, unbearably gentle intensity that makes me feel both seen and stripped bare at the same time.
My pulse beats in my throat, too fast, too loud. I can hear it over the hum of the lights and the distant trickle of water from the fountain behind the broad-leafed tropical plants. My hands still hover awkwardly in front of me, fingers curling in and out as though they need something to cling to just to keep me grounded. And yet—for the first time in what feels like forever—I’m not afraid. I’m just overwhelmed. Floode
