Then he shuffles downstairs and blinks. “Is this a fucking dream?”
I’m standing by the Christmas tree, wearing his sweats and no shirt, the scent of the only food I could find to cook—chicken and bacon—filtering from the kitchen. “Depends if it’s a good dream or not.”
Tam steps forward, but he’s forced to stop as he winces and rubs his back.
I go to him.
He winds his arms around me, smelling of cinnamon and toothpaste. “Bhodi, any dreams that involve you are the best I’ve ever had.”
I don’t realise how much I need to hear that until his words hit me like a wrecking ball, punching the air from my lungs and burning my eyes.
Tam pushes my chin up with his knuckles. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you sooner. It kills me that you spent even a fucking minute thinking everything between us was anything less than it is.”
“I didn’t tell you I loved you either.” I pull him a little closer and notice the bite markI’veleft on his collarbone. “I had it in my head it was the last thing you’d want to hear and you’d run a mile.”
Honest empathy flares in Tam’s dark gaze. “Maybe I wouldhave in the beginning, but I’d have come back. This…” He presses his palm to his heart and then mine. “…it would’ve caught up with me eventually. You can’t hide from something that burns this bright.”
“Say that in French.”
He obliges.
I think.
In truth he could be saying anything, but as he breaks off to yawn, I know it doesn’t matter. That whatever he’s saying, it’s the truth, and from Tam, it always will be.
He’s still exhausted. I remember what he told me about the fatigue he’s sometimes plagued with, and combined with Sab’s prophecy, I don’t want him on his feet or wasting energy worrying about my self-esteem.
I steer him to the couch and sit him down. I bring him hot food and sweet tea. No cakes, though. He’s eaten them all.
Tam inhales everything I put in front of him. Then he dumps his head in my lap and drowses in front of an animated film he callsL'Enfant au grelotuntil I remember the phones I put on charge when the power came back on.
I pass him his and turn mine on. Messages and missed calls light up the screen. Some are from work, but most are Tam, and the concern he had for me heightens with every notification I click through.
Love warms my chest again. I lean down to kiss him.
He kisses me back, then pulls back, tilting his head. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “I’m just not used to someone noticing I’m not home.”
“I noticed.”
“I know.”
We share a moment. Then Tam goes back to his own phone, frowning as he swipes through whatever he’s missed while the power was out.
I open a message from my boss, but Tam’s rising stress distracts me from taking it in. “What’s wrong?”
His frown deepens. “Was Sab here?”
“This morning. He was worried he couldn’t get hold of you—oh, and he needed some money to pay a family law specialist. Sorry, it slipped my mind.”
Tam starts to get up.
I stay him. “It’s okay. I gave it to him and he said he’d call you later.”
“You—what?” Tam blinks hard. “You gave him money?”
“Uh. Yeah. He seemed pretty desperate, and I had it in my savings so…wait. You don’t think he needed it for?—”
