Two hot chocolates. The phrase lodged itself in my head with absurd persistence, as if my brain had decided this was the detail worth circling back to while everything else moved on. Ryan had already forgotten it, Dean hadn’t reacted at all, and yet it lingered, quietly rearranging something I hadn’t realized was unsettled. When I looked at Dean, he met my gaze with the same steady calm he always had, like nothing had shifted, like nothing had been revealed, and that somehow made it worse. “Can we talk?” I asked, my voice coming out drier than I intended. “Sure.” No hesitation, no edge, no sign that I’d inconvenienced him. Just an agreement, simple and immediate, like it cost him nothing. It should have eased the knot in my chest. It didn’t. “I just need to finish editing a few things first,” I added, gesturing vaguely toward the media room as if that explained anything. He nodded once. “I’ll wait.” “You don’t have to.” “I know.” A faint pause, then, “I’ll wait.” There wasn
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