"In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate."
—Isaac Asimov
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I couldn't muster the words to respond, nor the fortitude to move from where I was rooted. The only thing that seemed to function properly in that moment were my eyes, but even that felt like a betrayal. They were jamming into his, unblinking, staring far harder than they should have. And maybe that gave away just how much I wanted to respond and how less that was good for me.
Damn it.
My heart was kicking bad, my pores buzzing.
Renzo couldn't have been more than thirty, but there was a surprising depth to him. From his raw honesty to his fearless dive into the darkness of his world, to the boldness he showed in going after what he wanted—he was intense, certain. It was a change I liked,
