By the third time I entered Halston City, I no longer felt like a visitor.
I felt claimed by it.
The Montierre staff greeted me by name again. The elevator ride to the thirty second floor felt almost familiar. The room no longer overwhelmed me.
But I was different this time.
Less hesitant.
More aware.
He did not meet me in the lobby.
He was waiting inside my suite.
That alone shifted something.
When I opened the door and saw him standing near the window, jacket off, city lights framing him in silhouette, my pulse stumbled.
“You gave them permission to let me up,” he said.
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
That was the first boundary I had moved myself.
The door closed behind me.
We stood there, several feet apart.
The air felt heavier than before.
“You look certain,” he said q
