In a miracle move, the waitress steps back up to the table in time to make the pause less awkward. She sets down the glass of red wine in front of me and I pick it up and drink without tasting it. I should have ordered a white, but anything is better than the powdery feeling in my mouth. She saves me a second time when she asks for our orders. The one time my parents brought my sister and me here for dinner I had butternut ravioli and every bite melted on my tongue in a burst of flavor that I’ve never forgotten, so I stick with that. It’ll be a nice reward for making it through this conversation.

It’s only a momentary reprieve. Roman is waiting when the waitress steps away, leaving us with our bread and awkwardness. His expression doesn’t make him look awkward, only slightly confused. It’s me who probably looks like an idiot.

“What did you come back to Ruby Bay for, if not to give us a second chance?”

He says us, but the me is clear as day. How do I make him realize that I never had a first chance with him? Does it matter? It’s hard to think with him looking at me that way, with such intention. My freshman year of high school I would have given anything for him to look at me this way. Or any number of ways that he’s looked at me since I waltzed into his office.

My pulse hammers in my veins. Now’s the moment—it is the moment—when I should admit everything. The bonus from Connor. The plan for me to quit in a couple of weeks. All of it. But it hurts, a tight squeezing vise on my chest, to think that he might never look at me this way again.

I thought I’d grown out of being timid. I thought I’d grown into being brave. It turns out I’m not that brave.

“Okay.” I shift in my seat, trying to make it feel less like my ass is pressed to hot coals. “I’ll admit it.”

Roman is instantly on edge, sitting up, leaning in. His face is as closed off as I’ve seen it these last two weeks, but there’s still a chance. I can still see an opening. The words come slowly, because the more I think about it, the dumber it sounds, even in my head.

“I made some assumptions about...the things you were thinking the day of my open house.” He gives me one nod to continue. “And back then, I thought you’d ignored me purposefully, to hurt me. I guess I never sat down to think that it could have been something else entirely.”