He didn't ask what we talked about.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Kairo just watched me as I stepped back into the room, his gaze steady, unreadable, like he already knew enough—or didn't care about the details.
"You came back," he said.
I frowned slightly. "You say that like I wouldn't."
"You hesitated."
Of course he noticed that.
"I still came back," I replied.
"That's what matters."
The words settled quietly between us.
I closed the door behind me, leaning against it for a second longer than necessary. Something about that conversation still lingered, sitting uncomfortably in my chest.
I won't interfere anymore.
It didn't feel like relief.
It felt like something ending.
And I didn't know what to do with that.
"You're thinking about him again," Kairo said.
I exhaled. "You already know I am."
"Say it."
I looked at him. "Why?"
"Because you keep avoiding it."
I let out a quiet breath. "Fine. I'm thinking about him."
Silence followed, but not for long.
"And?" Kairo asked.
"And what?"
"What does it change?"
I hesitated.
Because that was the problem.
"I don't know," I admitted.
That answer felt more honest than anything else I could have said.
Kairo stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like he was giving me time to step away if I wanted to.
I didn't.
"You do know," he said quietly.
I shook my head. "No, I don't."
"You're just not saying it."
"That's not the same thing."
"It is."
I clenched my jaw slightly. "Then say it for me."
A brief pause.
Then—
"You don't like that he's stepping back."
My chest tightened.
"That's not—"
"It is."
I looked away, but that didn't help.
Nothing did.
"Why would I care about that?" I said, quieter now.
Kairo didn't hesitate. "Because it makes this real."
The words hit immediately.
Too directly.
Too accurately.
I didn't respond.
Because I couldn't.
Because he was right.
Again.
"You were holding onto him as an excuse," Kairo continued. "As long as he was still here, still fighting, you didn't have to decide anything."
My fingers curled slightly at my sides.
"That's not fair."
"It's true."
"It's convenient," I corrected.
"For you," he said.
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Because there was truth in that too.
I exhaled slowly. "And now?"
"Now you don't have that anymore."
I frowned. "That doesn't mean anything."
"It means everything."
I looked at him again. "You always say that."
"Because you keep trying to minimize it."
"I'm trying to understand it."
"No," he said. "You're trying to delay it."
That stung.
More than I expected.
"I'm not delaying anything."
"You are."
"I already said I'm staying."
"And you're still questioning it."
"Because it's not simple."
"It is."
I let out a small, frustrated breath. "You really don't see anything complicated about this, do you?"
"No."
"Even with him?"
Kairo's gaze didn't waver.
"He made his decision."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Too easily.
I stared at him.
"You're lying."
A pause.
Then—
"No."
That… didn't convince me.
"You expect me to believe that?" I asked.
"I don't care if you do."
That was honest.
Annoyingly honest.
"But you're still thinking about it," I said.
Silence.
Just for a second.
That was enough.
"I knew it," I muttered.
Kairo stepped closer again, closing the gap between us until there was barely any space left.
"I'm thinking about you," he said.
My breath caught.
"That's not what I meant."
"It is what matters."
His voice was steady, but there was something deeper beneath it now. Something less controlled.
Less distant.
"You keep bringing him into this," he continued, "like he changes something."
"He does."
"No."
"Yes," I insisted. "He was here first. He—"
"He's not you."
That again.
Always that.
"That doesn't erase him," I said.
"I'm not trying to."
"Then what are you doing?"
Silence.
Then—
"I'm choosing."
My breath caught.
The word felt heavier this time.
More deliberate.
"I already told you that," he added.
"I know."
"Then why do you keep questioning it?"
"Because I don't understand it," I admitted.
That was the truth.
The simplest version of it.
Kairo studied me for a moment, then reached out again, his hand brushing lightly against mine before settling there.
Not gripping.
Not forcing.
Just… holding.
"You don't need to understand it," he said.
"That's not how I work."
"It is now."
I frowned. "You don't get to decide that."
"I'm not deciding."
"Then what are you doing?"
A pause.
Then—
"Waiting."
That caught me off guard.
"For what?"
"For you to stop pretending."
Silence filled the room again.
But this time, it felt different.
Less like pressure.
More like inevitability.
I looked down at our hands, then back at him.
"You really think that's going to happen?"
"Yes."
"No doubt?"
"No."
I let out a quiet breath. "You're way too confident."
"And you're not confident enough."
"That's because I actually think about consequences."
"So do I."
"And?"
"And I still choose you."
My chest tightened sharply.
That… wasn't something I could easily ignore.
Not anymore.
I looked away again, but it didn't help.
Nothing helped.
Because the more this continued—
The less distance there was.
Not just physically.
But emotionally.
And that was the real problem.
Because once that space disappeared completely…
There would be no going back.
"You're not leaving," Kairo said again.
Not a command.
Not a question.
Just certainty.
I swallowed.
"…No."
The word came out quieter this time.
But it felt heavier.
More final.
And for the first time—
There was no hesitation behind it.
Kairo didn't say anything after that.
He didn't need to.
Because the space between us had already closed.
And neither of us was stepping away.