Page 39 of Can't Always Get What You Want

Ah.

So this is what a heart attack feels like…

8

luca

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The second the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve crossed the line from casual flirtation to full-onfeelings territory.

There is no snatching them out of the air.

No take-backs.

Which, yeah. Terrifying.

But so what?

Nova doesn’t respond right away. She gazes at me, eyes wide— guarded—like I’ve reached across the table and handed her somethingtoofragile,tooreal.

Like I’ve offered her something she doesn’t know how to hold.

And I get it.

I do.

She’s careful. Not cold, not indifferent—but careful. She's been through enough to know that letting people in comes with risk and sometimes people leave, through no fault of their own. I’ve heard about her failed relationships through team gossip.

I know that somewhere along the line, she decided it wassafer to stay behind the high walls she’s built over time than gamble on someone new. Trust takes time.

And effort.

I’m not going anywhere.

And I don’t regret saying the words. Not even a little.

Because I meant it.

Every word.

I think about her more than I should. Wondering if she wants kids. Wondering if she likes to travel. Her favorite books and movies. Whether she cries during sad songs or keeps her emotions folded up tight, even in private. What her love languages are.

I notice the way she pretends she’s immune to our connection. I notice the way she looks at our dumb giraffe cup like it’s a stand-in for all the things she’s afraid to want—joy, nostalgia, comfort.

Beneath all the armor and eye rolls, Nova wants to be chosen.

Not just seen.

Chosen.

I clear my throat. “Sorry. Was that too real for you?”

I can match her joke for joke, sarcasm for sarcasm. I’ve done it before. I know the rhythm of her deflections like the back of my hand.

But probably not for long.

Because pretending only works until it starts to hurt.

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