He offered me a one-shoulder shrug. “To see you, of course.”
“Very cute.”
“Don’t go getting a bigger head.” He brushed his nose across mine.
“Too late.”
“You have always been an incredible distraction. Doesn’t matter which side of the fence I’m on,” he noted.
“I’m nothing but proficient in everything I do.”
He nodded. “What happened when I left you earlier?”
David touched my cheek, noting the lack of blush I had so clearly applied in his car.
“I talked to my sister.” My arms tightened around his neck.
“How did it go?” he asked, concern clouding his eyes.
“We both cried, and she told me she’d forgiven me forever ago.” I let out a breath, remembering all my anxiety over the past few years, how it’d almost eaten me alive. Those feelings lingered in my bones because my body had been their home for far too long. But they occupied a smaller unit. And I’d learn how to co-exist with them. Time was an excellent teacher.
David’s smile expressed the pure joy I thought only family could offer a loved one. An unabashed, loving care I thought I wouldn’t deserve unless I became an incredible doctor or a brilliant lawyer.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered between kisses. “So incredibly proud.”
I laughed against his mouth. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Wouldn’t have.”
He shook his head. “You needed more time, but you would have done it. I know you well enough to understand you don’t need me. But you want me, and that’s all I could ever ask for.”
“We’ll argue about semantics till the day we die, won’t we?” I asked.
“There’s no doubt about it.”
“I look forward to it,” I said honestly.
He nodded. “Me too. Especially since I have such a brilliant and beautiful opponent.”
I smiled. “Brilliant and beautiful? Dare you to keep up that energy for as long as we’re together.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
EPILOGUE
DAVID
Yara’s sideof the bed was cool to the touch. I moved my hand around, reaching to pull her close. But there wasn’t even an imprint in the sheets indicating her absence could be a temporary setback.
My stomach twisted, and my eyes strained to make out shapes in the near-dark. The silence of the room buzzed, a loud warning. I sat up, examining the space. The only bit of light in our bedroom came from the cracked bathroom door. I waited, listening for movement behind the door. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioning.
A nightmare had woken me up. I had one of my recurring ones where Yara and I were separated. Her side of the closet was empty, her toiletries gone, and a simple note reading “this isn’t working” on the countertop.
I knew it wasn’t real. It would never be real. But the heavy weight that bore down on my chest was bent on convincing me otherwise.
“Yara?” I called and reached for my phone to check the time. One AM. The world was quiet, cloaked in black. I tossed off the tangled blankets and started out of the room.
Yara was a heavy sleeper. AI-always-get-eight-hours-every-nightsleeper. So, for her to be up and gone at this hour made my chest burn with what-ifs.
I beelined downstairs, automatic lights illuminating every step I took. Our apartment was too big for just two people. There were too many places for an intruder to hide. Too many dark shadows that could harm my wife.
