The five-minute ultimatum hung between us, a ticking clock in the silent, shadowed room. The distance from the door to where he stood felt like a mile of treacherous, emotional ice. I stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind me with a soft, final click.
“I don’t need five minutes,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I only need one.”
He didn’t move. His green eyes were guarded, wary, a fortress I’d spent weeks learning the contours of, only to find the drawbridge slammed shut. “Then talk.”
I took another step, then another, closing the gap until I stood just before him. I could see the flecks of gold in his irises and the faint tremor in his jaw he was fighting to control. He was holding himself together by sheer will.
“You asked me to figure out what I want,” I began, m
