“I thought you’d gone,” I admit. “Back to Toronto. I went to the cabin—”
“You went to the cabin?” she cuts in softly, the disbelief strong.
“Yeah.” I nod. “You weren’t there, and I panicked. Thought I’d blown it. That I’d ruined the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak.
“I saw you at the lake,” I go on, heart hammering. “Then you were gone. I couldn’t find my phone, couldn’t find you, couldn’t fucking breathe. I begged Tamara for your number—she looked at me like she was gonna call the cops, but she gave it to me anyway.”
The choked sound Frankie makes, part laugh and part sob, nearly finishes me.
“I was on my way back to use my home phone when I realized there was one place I hadn’t checked.” I gesture toward the headstone. “And there you were. Talking to my Dad like you’ve always been part of his life.”
Her expression softens, something blooming behind her eyes.
“Frankie,” I say, taking a step closer. “I thought you'd left.”
She swallows. “I thought you didn’t care.”
“No.” I shake my head fast. “I care. I care so fucking much it’s honestly kinda gross.”
Her brow furrows, the ache in her eyes matching mine, but her mouth twitches.
“Gross like Hallmark movie gross?”
“Worse,” I deadpan. “Like, Christmas special level gross.”
A breath of laughter escapes her, and I swear it brings color back into the air. She takes a beat, then bites her lip.
“I didn’twantto leave without saying goodbye,” she whispers. “I just… I didn’t know if I was wanted. Thought you’d ghosted me again.”
“Never,” I say fiercely, stepping in so close I can feel the warmth of her breath in the frozen air. “Frankie,never again.If I’d known how to reach you, I’d have run barefoot through the snow. Hell, I’d have stolen Herb’s truck.”
Her breath shakes and her fingers twitch like she wants to reach for me.
“You’re wanted, baby,” I murmur. “So fucking much. Since the first night you opened your smartass mouth and told me you had no holiday spirit but an exceptional hand technique.”
Her cheeks go scarlet. “You remember that?”
“I remember every goddamn word you’ve ever said to me. Even the weird ones.”
She lets out a watery laugh. “That’s most of it.”
“Exactly.”
A gust of wind rattles the trees above us. She shivers, and I reach out to tug her scarf gently back into place.
“I lost my phone,” I say quietly, knuckles brushing her cheek. “But losing you? That would fucking end me.”
Her exhales is shaky, hand reaching out to grasp mine, her cold fingers curling steady.
“That’s the thing, though.” Her voice wavers. “I’ve spent so long convincing myself I don’t belong anywhere.”
“You do.” I cup her chin gently, thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. “You belong right fucking here.”
“In a cemetery?”
“There’s that smartass mouth again.”
