There.
That sound.
That is the one I chase.
Not for me. For her. For both of us. For the room and the night and every ugly thing waiting outside the door. For the woman who chose me with clear eyes and trembling hands. When I finally let go, it’s with my face buried against her throat and her name broken in my mouth.
Mine only in the moment she gives me.
After, I roll carefully to the side and pull her with me because not touching her suddenly feels like a crime. She comes without hesitation, curling against my chest, one hand over my heart. My body is still humming. My brain is burned clean. For a while, neither of us speaks.
The house is quiet.
The rain starts again.
Soft on the roof.
August sleeps down the hall.
The world ain’t ended.
That should not feel like a miracle.
It does.
“You okay?” I ask finally.
She nods against me.
“Words.”
Her fingers move lightly over my chest. “I’m okay.”
“Good okay or lying okay?”
A pause.
Then, “Good and sad.”
I frown, but I’m too exhausted to lift my head. “Sad?”
“Not because of you.”
That should help.
It doesn’t.
I shift enough to see her face. She looks soft and worn-out, too beautiful for the kind of night we have had. There are tears at the corners of her eyes.
My stomach tightens. “Amelia.”
She smiles, but it breaks. “I’m fine.”
“No.”
“I am.” She kisses my chest. “I promise.”
I don’t like the promise.