But he didn’t get to see it.
“So it was her own fault I stepped on her dress…”
Elmer stated this with utter seriousness, then gently slipped his arm around Niamh’s back, guiding her off the dance floor.
Jonathan watched the two of them disappear, then pulled out his phone and dialed Prescott.
Niamh got a ride home in Elmer’s car.
All the way back, they sat quietly in the car. Neither spoke, but somehow the silence felt companionable—comfortable, even—like the kind of understanding where words weren’t needed.
It had been years since she’d last seen Elmer, but being with him felt just as easy as it had back in high school.
The white Lexus pulled up outside the old house on Trinity Lane.
Niamh didn’t get out right away.
She turned to Elmer. “So, where are you staying these days?”
“I don’t have anywhere to stay,” he said flatly.
“…Excuse me?”
Niamh couldn’t help but laugh at the pitiful look on Elmer’s face.
He was a top-tier AI specialist, recruited by the Aldonia government. Even if they didn’t put him up in a mansion, at the very least, they’d have provided him with an apartment, right?
No way did she buy his story about being homeless.
“So what’s your plan for tonight? Gonna check into a hotel?”
She played along, not calling him out on the obvious lie.
“It’s so late, it’ll be tough to find a room. Worst case…” He heaved a theatrical sigh. “I’ll just make do on the bench outside your building.”
Niamh burst out laughing. “It’s freezing out. Not worried you’ll catch a cold?”
“Terrified,” Elmer replied with mock solemnity, nodding. “That’s why I was hoping you’d let me crash at your place tonight. Unless you’re not willing to take in a poor, homeless soul?”
He watched her carefully and caught the flicker of hesitation on her face.
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