Dante's text came at eight forty-seven on Wednesday night.
*She'll think about it.*
Roman read it at his desk in the study where he had been reading without fully reading for the past two hours. He read it once. He set the phone down. He picked it back up and read it again, which was not necessary because he had understood it the first time, but he read it again anyway.
He put the phone in his pocket.
He got up and went to the kitchen. He stood at the counter. He went back to the study and sat down.
She'll think about it.
Not no. He knew the difference clearly now, from months of learning how she communicated. She did not say yes when she meant maybe, and she did not say she would think about something as a way of closing a door. She would think about it. That was an honest statement
