“So,” Fitz said, watching her fidget with some of the fallen blossoms. “Do you want to say it? Or do you want me to guess? Or do you want me to drop it and we’ll just sit here and stare at the stars?” He glanced over his shoulder and pointed to the sky, which had faded to a peaceful swirl of purple and blue, brushed with flecks of twinkling glitter. “Anything’s fine, Sophie. Seriously.” He reached for her hand, gently tangling her gloved fingers with his. “I told you my new goal is to get you to trust me. And I mean it. I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me, too—but in a different way.
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