Ishmael patted the seat beside him. I gravitated toward him. Naturally. Instinctively. Without thought. Without contemplation. Without hesitation.
The seat next to him felt so many miles away. Instead, I removed his iPad from his lap and placed it beside him. My body fit against his like a puzzle piece. My head rested against his chest. My legs stretched across him.
His lips touched my forehead.
Once.
Twice.
“A penny for your thoughts.”
“Where to?”
“The water, love.”
“And you?”
He sighed.
“Your thoughts?”
His chest vibrated each time he spoke. With each breath he took, it lifted. He laced his fingers through mine and closed his hand around them.
“My thoughts are with you, Royce.”
“How so?” I yawned.
“One day without you nearly killed me. I couldn’t imagine more.”
“She’s not pregnant.”
“It was in the papers today. I figured that was all you.”
I nodded.
“It was.”
“Still, I don’t have good feelings about you havin–”
“Ish.”
“Yes, my baby?”
“That’s over.”
“Yeah. It is.”
“And, your wound.”
“You are something else, Royce.” He chuckled.
“What?”
“They were waiting on me when I arrived at Berkeley Medical.”
“Good.”
“The way your mind works– it’s fascinating. Politicians would do themselves a solid by acquiring you the second they decide running is in their future.”
