And maybe I am.
I don’t know how long we stay like that. Could be minutes. Could be hours.
But eventually, his breathing evens out. The sobs quiet. His grip on my shirt loosens.
Sox, who’s been sitting at the foot of the bed watching us this whole time, finally moves.
She walks up the bed carefully, picks her way between our tangled bodies, and curls up right where our chests meet. Right over both our hearts.
Her purr is loud in the quiet room.
Caleb’s hand reaches up automatically, fingers stroking her fur.
But his other arm stays wrapped around me.
He falls asleep there, his face still pressed against my chest, his breath warm against my skin.
And I hold him all night.
I don’t sleep much—too aware of him, too worried he’ll wake up and pull away, put those walls back up. But I don’t let go. Don’t move except to adjust my grip on him, to pull the blanket up over both of us when the room gets cold.
For the first time since I moved into this house, I’m not the one being saved.
I’m the one doing the saving. I’m the strong one someone else is leaning on.
And it feels... right.
Maybe this is what love is supposed to be. Not just someone rescuing you from the wreckage of your life.
But taking turns.
Holding each other when the world gets too heavy. Being the strong one when the other person can’t be.
Being there.
Just... being there.
As the room starts to lighten with early morning sun, I press a kiss to the top of Caleb’s head.
He doesn’t wake up.
But he shifts closer, his arm sliding more firmly around my waist, pulling me tighter against him even in sleep.
And I think:I could do this forever.
I could hold this boy forever, and it still wouldn’t be long enough.
THIRTY-FOUR
HARPER
I spendall of Christmas break worried about Caleb.
His behavior doesn’t change much during the day. He goes through the motions—family dinners, helping Helen with dishes, talking about Harvard like he isn’t carrying a time bomb in his chest.
But there’s something hollow in his eyes.
Like the real Caleb is locked away somewhere, and this is just a convincing mannequin going through the routine.