Page 41 of Obeying

He says it like it's already decided. I look at him across the low table, and the warm café light softens everything, including his face. Underneath, I see the tension he carries in his shoulders. He looks tired. Not just from work.

"Can I ask you something?" I say.

He scratches at his chin. "You're going to anyway."

"Why are you doing this? Helping me. You're someone with power, and if there's one thing I've learned about people with power, it's that they always have an out. You could walk away, leave me to fight this on my own, but you're not. You're helping me even with the risk."

He's quiet for a long time. Long enough that I think he's not going to answer.

Then he says, "Because the last time you disappeared from my life, I didn't do anything. I just let it happen." He turns his coffee cup on the table. "I don't want you facing this alone. What Cruz is doing is pathetic, and when I told you we'd stop him together, I meant it."

The café gets quieter. Or maybe it doesn't. Maybe it's just that everything else fades, and the only sound that matters is his voice and my heartbeat and the distance between them getting smaller.

"That's a terrible strategic decision," I say quietly. "Very un-Maxwell of you."

"I know. It's been bothering me."

"You should probably talk to someone about it."

"I'm talking to you."

I hold his gaze. He holds mine. And neither of us looks away. The moment stretches past professional, past friendly, past whatever we've been pretending this is. His eyes are greener than gray in this light, and I've never noticed how striking the green is before now.

I look down first, because someone has to.

We stay another hour. The conversation drifts between light and heavy, work and not-work. He tells me about Mitchell giving him a hard time, and I tell him about Priya filming me dancing, to which he says he needs to see that footage immediately, and I tell him over my dead body.

"I'll ask Dr. Anand myself."

"She wouldn't dare."

"I'm her department head. She'll fold in seconds."

"You don't know Priya. She's loyal to me."

"Everyone has a price. I'll offer her a good case."

"You're bribing residents now?"

"If I must."

"Absolutely not." I'm smiling, and I can't stop. He's watching me smile, and there's something in his expression that makes my stomach flip.

Somehow our conversation moves to Avengers versus Justice League. He mentions he saw one of the newer DC movies on a flight last week, and I make the mistake of asking if it was any good.

"It was decent," he says.

"Decent. That's the best DC can do. Decent."

He looks at me. "Don't tell me you're a Marvel person."

"I'm absolutely a Marvel person. And the fact that you're not explains a lot about you."

"What does that explain, exactly?"

"You like DC because they take themselves too seriously. Dark, brooding, dramatic. Sound familiar?"

"I like DC because the writing is better."