Aveline held his gaze for a long, suspended moment. It was a look that had been crystallizing over weeks of measured encounters, the look of someone who had finished cataloging flaws, who had stopped hunting for inconsistencies and cracks, and who had simply begun to witness the thing itself.
She was no longer dissecting him; she was acknowledging him.
"You're going to tell me to say something true," she said, her voice carrying the faint challenge of someone who knew exactly what was coming.
"No," Mike replied softly, his eyes never wavering. "You don't need prompting."
The honesty of that statement hung between them, warm as the tea and sharp as a blade. She didn't look away.
"I've been cautious," she said, and there was a vulnerability in her admission that she rarely permitted. "About almost everything."
"For a very long time... Since before Renaud went abroad, actually this has been my default."
