“Good idea. I’m exhausted.”
When I twist to see her, I find her staring blankly at the screen, lost in her thoughts.
“What are you thinking about?”
That snaps her out of it, and she meets my eyes. “Nothing, I just… I was thinking of how we woke up in a tent yesterday morning. It feels like so much longer has passed.”
“Do you miss it? The carefreeness of Canada?”
“Some part of me does, yes. But… we were living in a delusion, weren’t we? It was amazing and unproblematic, but this reality was always in the background. We were always coming back to it.”
Something sad passes over her face, eyebrows twisting with what resembles remorse. I first think it’s about what her grandmother went through, but I realize I’m wrong when she continues.
“I wish it could have been enough. You and Canada. I know I would have been enough for you, and you could have stayed there for the rest of our lives. If I had to pick you over anyone else, I’d do it, but I’d be miserable. I feel terrible for needing more, Lex. More than you.”
“Don’t. Don’t feel terrible about it. I’d probably feel the same if I had a loving family like yours, and a blooming social life. I’m a creature of habit. I like my routines, but I can always adapt to a new one. You’re right, Canada would have been enough for me. But I don’t, nor will I ever, blame you for needing more than that.”
“So, you don’t think I love you any less because of it?”
The way her voice trembles tells me that, as ludicrous as her worry is, she’s been thinking about it for a while. Maybe before her grandmother was attacked, even.
I turn my chair to face her fully, doing the same with hers, and frame her freckled face with my hands. “Andrea, my love. You risked your life for me twice.Twice. From this day forward, there’s nothing you could ever do or say that makes me think you don’t love me enough.”
“You mean that?”
“How could I not?”
I slip a finger into the sleeveless shirt at her shoulder and tug it enough to reveal her healed scar. I lean in to give it a loving and adamant kiss, passing all of my fervor and adoration for her. “I’m forever indebted to you, Andrea Walker. And I’m yours for as long as I breathe.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
This time, I aim for her lips to seal my words. We stay locked together in a manner that is more fervent than lustful. When she moves, it’s only to get closer and climb on my lap, hooking her arm around my neck. She pulls away, allowing me to drown in the constellations of her freckles, the thick fringe of her lashes, the round plumpness of her cheekbones…
“Thank you,” she whispers, the warm breath of it fanning across my wet lips.
“For what?”
“For leaving Canada behind and letting me come back home. I know I forced your hand, and I know how much it cost you to get us here, emotionally and financially. I promise that as soon as all this mess is over with, I’ll be the most obedient and docile girlfriend.”
“Your stubbornness is half of your charm. I might love you less if you weren’t this pigheaded.”
She giggles and gives me an urgent, uncontainable peck. “Let’s get you to bed, my love. It’s been an intense couple of days.”
“Try an intense five months,” she corrects me with a wince.
“Yes, true. I can’t wait for us to have a boring little life together.”
“Me neither, baby.”
I hook an arm under her and behind her back before standing up with her. As much as I’d love for us to have remained in Canada, she’s right. We always had to come back to reality.
And be it here, there, or wherever we wind up, I’ll forever protect her. No matter the cost, emotional or financial.
The following day, we’re both up and hard at work at the crack of dawn after sharing a quick breakfast. We keep working on her approachto infiltrate Becker’s security system, needing it to be flawless. For lunch, we order food again, too busy to cook. We have it on the high counter of the kitchen, discussing our next steps.
At some point, she gets a succession of notifications on her phone, and after checking them, she sighs and returns it to the counter, face down.
