“I mean if you call her and it turns out not to be what you expected...” I squeeze his hand. “I think you’ll be okay. You’re not the same person you were six years ago. You’re stronger. And you’re stronger than you think. And you won’t be alone. I’ll be here with you, and you’ll get through it.”
His cheeks redden, and he looks so perfect that I need to kiss him again. I lean in, and he meets me halfway. The kiss is warm and sweet, and when he smiles into it, I feel all his love and hope.
We part, and he’s still smiling. “Thank you,” he whispers.
I grin and nod, and I can’t help myself. I pepper more kisses on his lips and then his cheek and his forehead. “I meant every word I said,” I tell him, and I plant another kiss right on his nose.
He laughs, his cheeks still flushed. “I know.”
Chapter Five
Nico
WhenAlexleavesjustbefore nine, I swear the temperature in our apartment drops at least ten degrees. I pull on his sweater—the one he was wearing before he changed clothes to head to campus—and I crawl back under the covers on the bed, scooting over to his side so I can sleep on his pillow. Bundled up in his sweater with my head on his pillow, I feel warm and loved and cared for.
“. . . you won’t be alone. I’ll be here with you . . .”
I close my eyes and imagine he’s still here, his arms holding me tight. I don’t fall asleep, but I get a lot of thinking done. More back and forth, except now with a bit more perspective and maybe a tiny bit of confidence. And I make a decision, finally.
I’ll call her, and I’ll do my best to listen and be open to whatever she has to say. But I’ll make sure Alex is with me when I call, in case it doesn’t go well. It’s too easy to remember where I was at that summer nearly six years ago—the devastation of knowing she chose Patrick over me, the hopelessness, the dark thoughts, fleeting but terrifying.
I haven’t been back to the top of those metaphorical stairs since. And a huge reason for that is Alex.
He says I’m stronger now than I was, and he’s right. I am. But I’ve also learned to lean on him when I need to and that it’s okay toneed to. That’s why I’ll wait until he’s here with me to call. Maybe tonight, even.
I’m still in bed, not sleeping, several hours later when my phone vibrates from the nightstand. With a groan, I roll over to grab it.
Text messages. A string of them.
Alex (11:48 a.m.):so
Alex (11:48 a.m.):i did a thing
Alex (11:48 a.m.):and i hope u dont hate it
Alex (11:49 a.m.):also
Alex (11:49 a.m.):dont freak out, ok?
Nico (11:50 a.m.):What?
Alex (11:50 a.m.):;)
Nico (11:51 a.m.):Winky face emoji tells me nothing
Alex (11:51 a.m.):i know ;)
There’s a knock at the front door, and even though Alexliterallyjust told me not to freak out, I instinctively flinch and flip over to face the front door.
“Who is it?” I call out. There’s no answer, which doesn’t help but also doesn’t surprise me.
Nico (11:52 a.m.):Who is at the door?
Alex (11:52 a.m.):shrug
Alex (11:53 a.m.):;)
Nico (11:53 a.m.):Ugh. You know I don’t like surprises
