We could be on the set of one of the movies Felix and I love watching together.
But this isn’t a movie.
This is real life.
This kiss, this man, could be mine for good.
If I take the leap.
The question he asked me two days ago comes back to me, and I break our lips apart. He rests his forehead against mine, chest heaving, eyes closed.
“I’m ready to be brave, Gabriel.”
TWENTY
TWO DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS
Okay.
This is fine.
It’s fine.
Clara isn’t here, and I need her, I need her, I need her, and she isn’t here. She’s not coming home tonight after work, and I need her here.
I need her.
At least she sent a text message.
Clara
Hey, crashing with Hazel tonight for a girls’ night! I’ll be home tomorrow.
Except I don’t think this can wait until tomorrow, because my pheromones are flooding my nest with the scent of burnt chocolate and bitter orange, proving that my suppressants are finally out of my system.
This is fine.
Fine.
Fine.
It’s not fine.
Holy shit, I am not fine.
I am spiraling.
The place is now so saturated in my scent that I haven’t been able even to get an inkling of Clara’s, and I have been psyching myself up all day to find out the truth.
I need to know. That’s why I’m spiraling, probably, because I don’t know. I was preparing myself to find out tonight if she’s my scent match, and now she’s not coming home, and I get to spend another day stewing in the possibility.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, hoping she texted me again, and I just happened to miss it in the ten seconds I wasn’t staring at the screen.
What am I going to do if she doesn’t come home? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! Is she going to miss Christmas with me? That doesn’t seem like something she would do, but she’s gone, and I need her, and what if she doesn’t come back?
Have I always been this clingy? Why does it feel like she rejected me?
She didn’t reject me.
