“I think you’re feeling anxious about quitting your job,” she said, her face craning up toward him as they danced.

“You don’t need to be a psychiatrist to know that.” He laughed, slowing their hips along with the tempo of the song. “But yes. It’s a big change.”

“I’m proud of you,” she said, with no sarcasm or double meaning behind her statement.

His eyes darted downward to meet hers, transforming in real time to that tender expression, lashes heavy.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice quiet. “And it wasn’t just about your video. It had been coming for a long time.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He nodded, moving them effortlessly out of the way of a couple that had gotten too close on the dance floor.

“You know, I’ve always been so envious of you,” he continued. “Not just getting to do something you care about, but feeling like you deserve it, you know?”

“Deserve what?” Her face was craned up toward him now, but he kept his eyes fixed on the dance floor around him.

“Everything. Taking risks, doing something actually important for the world.” He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. “Chasing your dreams instead of the largest possible paycheck.”

She remained quiet, observing him.

“I can’t remember the last time I did anything that was just… living my own life, you know? I spend my Friday nights making financial models and estate planning in case anything happens to me while my mom is still alive.” A bitter laugh escaped him, and he shook his head.

She squeezed his hand in hers, letting the words linger and expand between them.

“What was I like in college?” he asked, finally meeting her eyes directly.

She paused, letting a thousand adjectives flutter through her mind before settling on the most accurate one she could think of: “Extraordinary.”

He smiled, a joyful little breath accompanying his change in expression. And at this, they only danced, the song rising between them as their bodies moved weightlessly together. From the corner of her eye, she caught Dev and Bee stepping onto the dance floor, looking so much happier than they had that first morning on the boat. Maybe two weeks away from the twins had returned them to their essential, perfectly suited selves. Seeing the two of them felt like a jolt of electricity, a buzzing reminder that her time with Danial was coming to a close in just a few days. After this, they would be in separate cities, living separate lives—a thought that made Alex slightly ill.

“I want you to come to my room tonight,” she whispered, the words escaping her before she even registered their exit. Her courage hadn’t quite reached the level of admitting she was still in love with him, but it was enough to tell him she wanted to sleep with him again.