He doesn’t reply right away, but I can see how my words hit. His face softens and chin lowers. When he speaks again, his voice is richer somehow. Full of emotion. “I miss you too.”
My throat clenches, but I don’t say anything else. I can’t. If I do, I won’t be able to hold the truth back, and I need to. At least for a little bit.
Jordan is quiet too. Whether it’s from exhaustion, his mental state, or just trying to figure out what to say, I don’t know. But the quiet stillness spreads between us, warm and familiar. Somehow, it helps. Seeing his face is enough to push the worst of it away.
I soak in every perfect feature.
“I should go,” I say finally.
“Call me tonight?”
I nod.
“I love you.”
My eyes slam shut before he can see the tears. “I love you too.”
I hang up and set the phone on my chest like it can somehow transfer his body heat. The words I could have said still burn behind my teeth.I need you.
Keep it together, Miles.
Just a little longer.
21
JORDAN
Ink smears across the paper as my fingers trail the page of the notebook, the last line of a new poem spilling out. It’s the fourth one this week. Maybe fifth. I’ve lost count. Each of them are different, no pattern or rhythm. No style to bind them together. But I don’t care. At least I’m writing again. I can’t explain how good that feels. It strikes a nerve somewhere deep, in the best way.
A boom of thunder rattles the windows and rain batters against the roof, steady and strong. It’s one of my favorite things about the motorhome, that steady percussion is loud and soft all at once. I wish Miles was here to enjoy it with me.
I smooth out some wrinkles on my bed, inhaling the fresh scent of the detergent. He’s the reason I had to wash them again, even if he doesn’t know it. I’ve jacked off so many times this week thinking about him.
My phone buzzes with a message from him.
Miles:Emotional status report?
I chuckle. These soft check-ins have been literally everything to me. Not only from Miles, but Declan, Seth, and Piper too. They’re remindingmeto check in with myself. To notice the changes. I’m not sure I would have seen it as drastically if they hadn’t helped me.
Me:Better than I’ve been in a long time, if I’m being honest. Still weighed down, but better. How are you?
Miles doesn’t reply. Which isn’t like him. It hurts. Is he closing me off? Or does he think I’m pulling away?
I get an idea.
Unlocking my phone, I tap the camera before propping the phone against a pillow. I angle it to capture my face and bare upper torso as I lie on my stomach. Then I smile into the camera and hit record.
“Hey, bab—“ Thunder crashes overhead, interrupting me, so I point to the ceiling with brows raised. “You hear that? It’s thundering, and it’s fucking incredible.” I give a happy squirm. “I love storms in this thing. I wish you were with me. The rain is just… it’s beautiful, Miles. Anyway, I wrote something for you. Do you wanna hear it?” I laugh. “Of course you do. You’re my biggest fan. Okay, here goes. And sorry if my performance is crap. I’m out of practice.”
I haven’t performed since before Graham died, but I forge ahead, clearing my throat. “Love on the Hard Days, by Jordan Sanchez. Oh wait, that’s me!”
I wink into the camera and start again.
“Love On the Hard Days.
“It’s in the way you
ask how I am
