Harry escorted Airam back to the hotel without a word. She didn't even know he was following until she reached her door. The moment she opened it, he slipped inside after her and closed it quietly but firmly behind them.
The click of the lock echoed like thunder.
"What do you think you're doing? Get out. Now!" Airam yelled, her voice raw, trembling.
"No." Harry didn't flinch. His voice was too steady. "You're not okay. And I'm not leaving you. Not like this."
Airam let out a bitter laugh. "Don't you get it? You are the last person I want to see! Just like him, you saw me as nothing more than a… a data collecting tool." Her voice cracked.
"Just like him, you made me second-guess my worth. Just like him, you made me feel like I needed to prove myself. So go away. With all due respect, get out."
But Harry didn't move. Not an inch.
"Airam…" His voice softened, but the pain in it was sharp. "No. I admit it. I was failing my thesis. They thought I couldn't do it. They thought everything I wrote looked like a privileged boy guessing, because I had no idea what it was like to be poor." He rubbed the back of his neck, breath unsteady. "So I moved into your home. I just wanted to observe from afar. That was the plan."
Airam's jaw tightened.
"I wasn't supposed to get close to any of you," Harry continued. "That wasn't part of it. But I… I got drawn in. To your family. To you. Especially you."
Airam blinked fast, her eyes hot.
"I fell in love, Airam." His voice cracked on the words. "And none of that... none of that was part of my thesis. I fell in love with the smart, strong, incredible person you are. Your innocence in a world that tries to tear you down. You stood tall. And the more I knew you, the more I..." He swallowed hard. "The more madly I fell."
He ran both hands through his hair, pulling in frustration. "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry that I made you feel like you had to prove anything. I never wanted that. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm in love with you, Airam. Every part of me aches for you. You have no idea how hard it's been to be close but not close. You have no idea the things I want to..."
He cut himself off, breath sharp, chest rising and falling as if he'd run a marathon.
"Please…" he whispered. "Give me another chance. To know me. As Harry Johnson. Not the boy who wrote a thesis. Not the son of your boss. Just… me."
The room fell very, very quiet.
Too quiet.
Airam turned her face away, blinking tears that refused to fall.
"If you're done…" she said quietly, voice stripped of emotion, "please leave."
It wasn't anger this time. It wasn't fire. It was exhaustion.
The kind that came when a night had already taken too much from her father, her past, her truth, and now Harry's confession.
Harry stood there, silent, devastated, unsure if moving would break him or break her.