Vivienne's POV
He reached across the counter and took my hands.
Both of them. Wrapped them in his the way you held something you were serious about keeping. Not tight. Just present. The specific warmth of hands that had decided they were staying.
He looked at me.
"No more days," he said.
I nodded.
He turned slightly on the stool so he was facing me properly. He didn't let go of my hands.
"I need you to let me get through all of it before you respond," he said. "Not because I'm afraid of your response. Because if I stop I don't know if I'll find the way back in."
"Okay," I said.
He took a breath.
And began.
....
"Lumière came across my desk fourteen months ago," he said.
His voice was steady. Not the careful managed steady of someone controlling their delivery. Just honest and
