“I’ve never thought about it before.”
I let her sit with the thought. I don’t want to encourage her either way. Because I meant what I said. Scott and Rebecca can’t decide what’s going to make Stella happy. Neither can I. Only she can do that.
And vice versa—her parents’ happiness isn’t dependent on her.
I swallow and fight back the urge to plant myself right next to her. “You know who was proud of you?” I press my lips together.
She glances my way, waiting.
“Brice.”
Stella breathes out a disbelieving laugh.
“No, really. He took me into your room once and showed me all the things you’d been making. He said he didn’t know how you created the things you did out of a ball of clay and a spinning wheel.”
Stella sits up, legs crossed. Her brow furrows, and she’s studying me. “When?”
I shrug. “About a year after you got your wheel. Youweren’t home, and he took me in to see your shelf of creations. Just a few months later, I asked you to make?—”
“Your GOAT award.” She chuckles out the words. Stella wraps her arms around her knees, hugging them close. “I never knew he showed you my things.”
“He thought they were great. You were special to him.”
Her eyes water, and my skin crawls to stop the tears, to touch her.
I bite my inner cheek and jokingly add, “Which is probably why he also threatened my life if I got too close to you.”
She blinks, her long lashes flapping like Chinese fans. “I still can’t believe that.”
“Oh, yeah.” I can feel my face go warm, and I’m thankful for the dimness of the room and the glimmer from the lights on the tree.
But then she’s standing. “I need another Dawn soap shower,” she says with a small sniff. “Then I’m off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I sit and stare at the decorated pine, at the glow the tree creates in my small living room. And I think about Stella.
I sit in the quiet. No music, no TV, just the still of the night until Stella’s shower turns on. I’m not alone anymore. That Brice-shaped hole in my chest is finally starting to fill.
For a long while, I listen to the patter of the shower. Then, I pull my phone from my pocket and find my last text thread with Lucca.
Me: Stella’s already a citizen.
Lucca: Then why does the girl need a green card?
Me: She doesn’t. It was a misunderstanding.
Lucca: So, does that mean I can ask her out?
Surprisingly, I don’t even want to slug Lucca for the comment. Nope, I smother a laugh and text back.
Me: Nope. We’re staying married. At least, for a while.
Lucca: I feel like I missed something.
Me: You did. I’ll tell you later. Just sending out an update.
Lucca: It could be worse, Graveyard. Your wife is hot.
