Cane's POV
The credits rolled on the screen, but I didn't move. Neither did she. Stephanie's head was still tucked against my neck, her breath warm on my skin. The blanket had slipped down to our waists, and her hand rested on my chest, fingers curled like she was holding on without meaning to. The room was dark except for the glow from the TV, and the house was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat.
I'd been waiting for this moment all night. Not just the dinner, the lights, the dress—though I'd spent hours making sure every detail was perfect. I'd been waiting for her to let me in again, even just a crack. And tonight, she had. She laughed. She talked. She leaned into me like she used to. I wasn't stupid. I knew she hadn't forgiven me. I knew Tabitha's name was still a knife between us. But for one night, she'd put it down. And I wasn't letting that go.
