Page 226 of The Encore’s Crown

“Almost done.”

My annoyance grows. “This is a very strange time to start caring about social media.”

He turns the screen toward me and the thought disappears instantly.

It’s the photograph we just took. Attached is the Polish song I sent him when we first started talking, back when he was still a name glowing on my screen and every message felt dangerous enough to change my life. Then I see the caption.

I’d like to introduce you all to the love of my life, Natalia Sawadzka.

My name is tagged. My account is linked. No careful crop or vague hand in the corner of a photograph. No shadow, no hidden face, no caption designed to give him room to deny what I am to him.

It’s me.

Us.

Declared from every social rooftop he has. I stare at the screen.

“Are you serious?”

“If you are.”

I look at him. He isn’t smiling now. There’s something raw in his expression, something almost nervous beneath all that practiced calm.

“I mean, yes,” I say. “Yes. Obviously, yes.”

His mouth twitches. “So that’s a yes?”

I smack his arm and he laughs.

“You can take time to think about it,” he says. “It’s a big deal. All the pressure of being with someone like me.”

“You mean old?”

He gives me a level stare, the kind that promises I’ll pay for that remark with my body later, before he answers.

“Famous.”

“I preferred my answer.”

His gaze remains fixed on mine.

“That’s why I’m asking,” he says quietly. “Is this really what you want?”

For one moment, I let myself feel the full weight of it. The attention. The comments. People dissecting our ages, our faces, our history. Strangers deciding whether I’m using him or he’s corrupting me. Every private thing becoming something the world thinks it owns. Then I look at the picture again. At the way he’s looking at me. I nod.

“I want to be with you in the open, whatever that means.” I curl my fingers around his. “Besides, it can’t be harder than fighting with your mom over the last piece of candy.”

His laugh bursts out of him before he leans in and kisses me. While his mouth is still against mine, his thumb presses the screen.

Post.

My heart jumps. There it is, out in the world. Kiri places the phone facedown on the nightstand before the notifications can begin.

“All right,” he says. “That’s enough phones for tonight.”

He pulls me beneath him, the sheet tangling around our legs.

“Come here, love of my life.”