“I can’t remember them.”I trace a fingertip along the neckline of his tank.“Our parents.”
His body stiffens.
“I try.”I take a breath.“I really do.But it’s just… Blurry shapes.Maybe a smell.Maybe not even that.Tell me about them.Just something.”
“It’s late, Dove.”
“You never talk about them.”
He goes quiet again, and for a second, I think he’ll get up and escape into his computers.
Instead, he shifts onto his back, eyes on the ceiling.“Mom cooked, and Dad helped her sometimes.They liked to dance together in the kitchen.That’s all.”
“That’s not all.”
“It’s enough.”
“No, it’s not.”I lift my head.“I don’t remember what they sounded like or what they looked like or if they laughed or how they—”
“Let it go.”
“You remember more than I do.”
“It doesn’t matter what I remember.”He rubs a hand over his face, frustrated.
“It matters to me.”
“They’re gone, and we survived.That’s what matters.”
“But I want to know them.”
“You knew enough.”He flicks a strand of my hair off my forehead.“You knew they existed.Some kids don’t even get that.”
It’s not the answer I need.But I can tell by the roughness in his voice that talking about them hurts him.
He doesn’t talk about the past.
He barely talks about the present.
“Come here.”His hand settles on the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he guides my cheek back to his chest.“You’re okay now.”
“You’re the one who got stabbed.”
“And you’re the one who tackled a grown man with a knife.”
“So?”
“I’m proud of you.”His arm tightens around me, and his heartbeat evens out beneath my ear.
“I missed you so much.”
“Missed you more.”His chest rises slow and falls slower.Then, barely above a whisper, “I love you.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it.”Eyes half-closed, lashes heavy with exhaustion, he lifts his hand, pinky extended.
It’s automatic, this old little ritual fused in the joints of our finger bones.I hook my pinky around his and bring our twisted fingers to my lips.He’s so tired, lids drifting shut, but he still does it.He leans forward the inch it takes and kisses our intertwined pinkies, cementing the promise.
