Tentative.
Her fingers were warm.
I looked down at them.
Then at her.
Neither of us moved away.
The rain kept falling.
For the first time in years, I allowed a moment to remain incomplete.
No declaration.
No strategy.
No demand to know what came next.
Just her hand in mine.
Then Cassandra said quietly, “I’m considering Portland.”
I squeezed her hand.
“For the job?”
“For a lot of reasons.”
I looked toward the rain-darkened street.
“What reasons?”
She smiled.
“Creo que estás aprendiendo a no exigir todas las respuestas
