“Yeah.”
A big old Toyota Highlander cruised into the parking lot. Emily’s mom. Both Eden and Gabe turned to watch her, and to raise hands in greeting.
And for a few moments they didn’t speak. She was glad of the silence, as all of the things she’d just learned sifted together with all of the things she felt. And then suddenly something else was clear.
“Is that how you got simple?” she asked. “Because of Lisa?”
He took a quick reflexive little step backward. As if she’d just swung a flashlight into his face.
He assessed her almost warily.
And then a smile, a small, slow one. In it was something like surprise. And surrender.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Interesting. He could suss her out pretty well, but it was clear he wasn’t used to being as accurately read. He was a guy who was used to being in control.
“It’s just... I have a feeling birth and death are like laser beams that slice through and sort the daily bullshit,” she explained. “When I found out I was pregnant with Annelise, it was funny... it should have been chaos, but everything just instantly got crystal clear. Everything in my life suddenly sorted itself into categories—into important or not. And it was quite the epiphany what made the cut and what didn’t.”
They said nothing for a moment.
“I guess that’s how you become a member of the ‘cut to the chase’ club,” he said wryly. “Birth or death.”
He was looking away from her.
“Guess so,” she said.
She wished he was close enough for her to touch his arm. The conversation was delicate, but the silences weren’t awkward. They felt like the essential moments of quiet, the rests in a piece of music.
“You know...” he said finally, hesitantly, “when I was a SEAL, potential death was always part of the job description. But we were highly trained, and even if something went wrong, we couldn’t say we hadn’t done our best or at least had a plan. But when Lisa was killed, I realized what a cocky fucker I’d been all along to think I had any real control overanything.It was awful, but it was humbling, too. Life got real complicated while I kind of held everything I thought I knew up into this new light. And then it got real simple. And stayed that way.” A beat of silence. “Mostly.”
That beat of silence, she was fairly certain, containedher.
And whatever it was they were doing here.
The wordmostlywas nestled in warmth and wry. And was followed by the faintest hint of a question.
Awful, he’d called it. How like a man, to encapsulate total devastation into one word. And yet it was this quality, this clear-eyed simplicity, that made him feel like oxygen.
She wished she could give him something more than silence right now. His news was old to him, but it was new to her, and her heart wasn’t a trampoline. It wasn’t bouncing right off.
“Just to make this clear, Eden, that isn’t—Lisa, I mean—isn’t the reason I’ve been single.”
“But it’s the reason you’ve stayed busy,” she said at once, albeit gently.
He went still. And then he made a little stunned sound, almost a laugh. But not quite. He swiped a hand through his hair, then seemed to realize he was doing it and dropped it.
He turned away again.
Interesting. He didn’t want her to see his expression.
She had a feeling she’d led him up to an epiphany of his own. Gabe had a few places he kept protected. Which made her feel that much more protective of him.
“So how long haveyoubeen single?” He’d recovered his aplomb.
“Ten years.”
She never hedged when she was asked that question. If it freaked anybody out, so be it.