I didn't expect to ask him to stay.
Not him, not like this.
But the words were out before I could stop them.
"So Ferry, will you...?"
He looked at me with an unreadable expression, as if he'd misheard me, or perhaps, as if he desperately wished he had. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, maybe a hint of fear, but no judgment. Just a stunned stillness.
"Ferry."
I repeated it, my voice quieter this time, almost a whisper against the sudden silence in the room.
"Will you stay with me? Tonight."
He hesitated.
Of course, he did.
He was a good man, perhaps too good for someone like me. He possessed a kindness, a fundamental decency that felt alien to my own hardened existence.
This was our first night together, and I had already lied to him about my name.
