Demian was quiet for a moment. Then, in his usual way direct, without warning he asked,
"So… do you love me?"
Valerie turned sharply.
Surprise crossed her face. Not because the question hurt, but because of how abruptly Demian had steered the conversation there, as if the world only had two points: logic, and himself.
"Demian," she said, almost in disbelief. "I'm talking about Bianca. Not us."
Demian looked at her for a long time.
And for the first time, Valerie saw something that rarely appeared on his face not anger, not absolute certainty, but a small confusion he didn't bother to hide.
"It may be easy for you to separate the two," Valerie continued more quietly. "But for Bianca, love is the only thing she has. Just like back then… all I had was myself."
Demian let out a slow breath. He stepped closer, close enough to make Valerie look back at him.
"You're not asking for permission," he said. "You just want me to understand."
