“No, you didn’t.You picked that desk and that drawer.How did you know?”
My pulse flutters in my throat.I’m still recovering from hearing him say I’m incredible.Maybe I’m the delirious one.What if this is all a really bad dream?
“Everything on the desk is organized into its own position.Neat and sensible.It makes sense that someone who keeps a desk like that would be prepared for anything.”
“Exactly,” he says.He’s still smiling.“Incredible.”
“I’m sure you thought of it,” I deflect.The tissue is starting to dissolve in my hand, but I can’t look at his face yet, so I keep dabbing the clean skin around his knuckles to hold off the inevitable.
“I didn’t actually, but I was working on my own way out.”
Of course he was.
“When we get out of here …” he says.
When … not if.A weight lifts off my lungs.If Sterling says it, it must be true.
“I’m going to tell Monica to take you off Lifestyle and give you some real assignments.”
Don’t make promises you can’t keep,I want to say.
He reaches to scratch his cheek, and I gently slap his hand away.His gaze finally catches mine, and it’s just as intense as I expected.
Soaking more tissues, I start on his face.“You can’t just let someone help you, can you?”
He’s quiet.“It’s been a long time since someone wanted to.The last time didn’t end so well.”
“For you or for them?”
“Both of us, but it was my fault.I …” He swallows.“I chased my dreams instead of him.”
“Well, you’ve got one up on me,” I say.“I chased my dreams, and it was my ex who ran away from me.”
“What an idiot.”
I smile.“You studied in the UK, didn’t you?”
He nods.“Manchester, where my great-uncle lives.After the accident, I wanted to disappear.Get as far away from reality as I could, and it seemed like a good idea at sixteen.”His hand lies in a fist on his knee, fingers digging into his palm.
I can’t even imagine.If I lost my parents …
My heart aches for him.“Was it?”
“Best decision I ever made.Followed by one of the worst.”
“Is that why you moved home?”
“Partly.Grief is a funny thing, honestly.Once the anger passed, I hated the thought of being so far from them, and I saw how much good I could do here.”Every word slips heavy from his lips, two decades of pain stitched into the syllables.
“You must have had every paper in the city chasing you.”
“I did,” he says.“I almost went to work atThe Herald.I’m extremely glad I didn’t now.That was the second-best decision I ever made.”
“The Heraldis a great paper.”
“The editor is a friend of mine, but there’s one thingThe Observerhas that they don’t.”
The trail of his fingers along my wrist shoots electricity through my veins, down my spine.
