Angel had organized a surprise. She'd booked a private suite at a high-end restaurant—the kind of place where they could talk without being overheard, where the staff knew to stay invisible unless called upon.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," she said after the appetizers had been cleared.
Austin had been expecting this conversation for weeks. He'd been expecting it since that first dinner at The Rooftop Garden.
"Okay," he said carefully.
"I like you," Angel said. "I really do. But I feel like I'm dating a ghost. You're here, but you're not here. There's something you're not telling me."
"There are a lot of things I'm not telling you," Austin said.
"Then tell me one," Angel said. "Give me something real."
Austin looked at this woman who was intelligent and beautiful and deserved better than what he could offer her. He thought about the truth—the real truth—and he knew he couldn't say it.
"I'm afraid," he said instead, and it was true. "I'm afraid of hurting people. And I'm not sure I'm capable of being the person you need."
"That's not your decision to make," Angel said. "Let me decide who I need. But I need honesty. I need to know that when you're with me, you're actually with me."
"When I'm with you, I am," Austin said. "That part is real."
"Is it enough?" Angel asked.
"I don't know," Austin said.
Angel reached across the table and took his hand. "Then let's find out together."