I should know better than anyone that luck is not an infinite resource.
And here, now, I might’ve finally used up what little I had left.
The silence lengthens. I’m still standing by the door, and Teddy is still standing by the fridge, and the distance between us is unbearable. The card is in his hand and I can almost see the words from here, though I’ve been carrying them around with me for so long that I don’t need reminding. They’re like a second heartbeat, steady and painful and true:I love you, I love you, I love you.
I’m bracing myself, waiting for the moment to tip one way or the other, waiting for everything to end or to begin. The stillness in the kitchen is airless and tense. A cloud passes by out the window and the room goes dim. Somewhere in the distance, a siren blares. And here in the quiet I let out a shaky breath before finally forcing myself to look up at Teddy.
I thought I knew all his smiles, thought I had them memorized and categorized. But this one is different. The way he’s looking at me right now, it’s like he’s about to turn into someone else entirely. It’s like his ship is about to come in.
It’s like he’s the luckiest person in the world.
It’s like we both are.
