“It’s for the seniors!”I announced, and the crowd erupted in cheers.I met his gaze and shrugged, a slight smile tugging at my mouth.
He smiled back, his eyes closing and head dipping for a second before saluting me.
By the time the last person threw the ball, Wyatt probably held the record for most dunks in a single afternoon.His hair was plastered to his forehead, and water dripped down his chest as he grabbed the towel I offered him.I couldn’t help but notice his pruned fingertips.He smiled as if he hadn’t been tortured for the last few hours.
The crowd thinned, the seniors exclaiming how the poor boy needed a hot toddy and a hug from his pretty girlfriend.
He dried his arms, then his legs, and when he straightened, I was still standing there.
“For the seniors,” he said as he placed the towel around his neck.
“For the seniors,” I reiterated, trying to ignore the single drop of water that was moving down his chest to his stomach to the hem of his bathing suit.My heart beat faster as that familiar grin graced his handsome face.“Guess I’ll go finish drying off and try not to drown in my own dignity.”
“You’re a good sport,” I said.
His gaze met mine.“I’d drown every day if it meant getting that smile out of you.”
“I want to come home.”
His eyes widened, and I quickly held my hand up.“It doesn’t mean we’re back together.I just…” I paused, searching for the right words that wouldn’t get his hopes up.“I miss you.I miss us.”Okay, not exactly what I was going for, but I had no control over what was coming out of my mouth.“And I don’t want to figure this thing out from opposite sides of town.”
His grin faded into something softer, more serious.He stepped closer, reached up, then fell back to his side.“Come home, Rose.No pressure.No strings.Just… come home.”
Relief and longing tangled in my chest and clogged my throat.I nodded, biting my lip.“Okay.”
Rose was home.I was on the couch, and she was in our bed, but she was home.
I stared at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, listening for any sound from the bedroom.A creak from the mattress, a shift of the sheets… anything to remind me that this wasn’t a dream, and I wasn’t alone.
But it was quiet.
Too quiet.
And Iwasalone.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and exhaled.She was here, and that had to mean something.She might not have been in my arms, but she was still in my life.Still wanted to be in our home.I’d take it as a win no matter how small it was.
I rolled over, holding onto the positive thoughts, determined to fall asleep.
Sleep never came.
The shadows turned into shapes that turned into memories.The waves of the beach in New York where we recovered after a friend's wedding.I could still hear the water crashing into the shore, the seagulls flocking overhead, and Rose’s laugh when a dog ran from its owner and jumped right into Rose’s lap.
Then there were the spirals that reminded me of the poppers on New Year’s Eve.Right after we celebrated with the family, we snuck off to the cellar of the winery and had our own celebration, which consisted of Rose pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around my waist.I could remember the way she moaned and whimpered my name, the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips as I slipped them beneath her dress.
I stared at the shadows, the memories, until my eyes burned, until the silence wrapped around me so tightly I thought I’d suffocate.
I missed her.
Not just her body beside me, or her voice first thing in the morning, or even the way she’d jump in front of me for the coffee when I was always up first.
I missed us.
And as the morning light kissed the curtains, I closed my eyes.Not because I found peace, but because I was too fucking exhausted to continue chasing the ghosts of our past.
The rustling of sheets forced my eyes open not even a minute later.Footsteps padded across the bedroom floor, but they weren’t soft and slow like her usual morning gait; they were rushed as if…
Was she sick?
