He had said it once that night—be with me—and it hadn’t been enough.

Now, standing on the porch, Conrad Fisher was deliberate stillness. The kind of quiet that drew storms to shore. He leaned against the railing like it was a choice, not a crutch, and if there was anything bruised inside him, he buried it deep enough for no one to find.

Except you.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. Presence was enough, and he noticed you in the way he always did—like cataloguing a detail he’d never admit mattered.

He broke the silence first. He always did, when silence turned dangerous. “You saw that.” A statement, not a question. His voice was measured, not ashamed, not uncertain—just acknowledging what lingered between the lines.

You nodded once. That was all.

Conrad’s eyes slid back to the horizon, but his words were for you. “It’s funny.” A humorless sound, something close to a laugh ghosting past his lips. “You can mean something and still have it mean nothing.”

The sharp edge of honesty, spoken like fact.

You should have left it there. But you didn’t.

So when you asked quietly, “Did you mean it?”—you watched the shift. Not hesitation. Not guilt. Just a flicker, like a ripple under still water.

Conrad turned then, finally meeting your gaze. That was the danger—his eyes. Not broken, not soft. Steady. Clear. A weight you could drown in.

"I don’t waste words." The admission sat heavy in the space between you. His tone was calm, unyielding. “When I say something, I mean it. Always.”

It could have been about Belly. It should have been. But in the way he held your stare—longer than necessary, deliberate, the air drawn tight between you—it wasn’t. Not anymore.

He didn’t move closer, but the distance still closed.

“You should go inside,” Conrad said finally, voice low, deliberate. A dismissal—but one that landed too late. Because the silence he left you with wasn’t empty. It was a question. A promise. A warning.

And you understood then what everyone else never had: Conrad Fisher didn’t confess twice. He chose once.