Milo finished his bite and set the fork down again.
"How old would Elias have been?" she asked.
“Sixty-four,” he said, no hesitation. No need for math. That kind of math did itself, constantly whispering in the back of their minds, marked by missed milestones and new lines carved in faces.
“How do you usually spend today?”
“Pissed,” Milo laughed.
Hanna pointed her fork at him. “Okay, checked that one off the list.”
“Alone,” he added.
She sipped her coffee, the heat of it soothing the wave of emotion in her throat.
“Not this year.”
“No.” A half smile cracked over his lips.
“Can I tell you something?”
Milo nodded as she set her coffee down.
“Seeing you all shitty like this… gives me a lot of hope.”
Milo scoffed. “Hope?”
“Yeah,” she said, snagging another bite of cake. “You’re still allowed to be sad fifteen years in, but you’ll wake up tomorrow and you won’t want to stay in bed for two months. There’s something encouraging about knowing I can still feel it all without wanting to die after, or whatever.”
“Or whatever.” He grinned.
“Smile still hits,” she said, not meaning to say it out loud.
Milo shook his head. “Goddammit, Arizona. I was really trying to have a shit day.”
“I know,” she whispered. “You still can. I won’t say another word.”
Milo chewed on his lip. The way his eyes closed reminded her of tucking into him on the plane home, his voice breaking as he’d apologized over and over again.
These were the days he’d been worried about. The days he needed someone who understood. The days he needed to know he was worthy of every ounce of patience he’d shown her.
Someone worthy of the love she thought she might never find a new home for, rotting in her chest.
“We should probably get back,” she said.
He only nodded, following her to the car. He walked slowly, like he was dragging something behind him. When he reached for her door handle, she intercepted his arm and pulled him into her, holding a hand on either side of his face.
“This doesn’t scare me,” she said.
“Hanna—”
“It used to. It used to make me think I’d never breathe again if the mighty infallible Milo still had bad moments, but you’ll be fine. We both will.”
“I don’t wanna be fine,” he whispered, his teeth biting down on the next sentence against her hands.
“What do you want to be?”
She stared into those green eyes, convinced she could hear the internal screaming bouncing off his skull.
