Understanding flickered in his eyes. He nodded slowly. “Hey. It’s okay. We can take it slow.”
I exhaled, some mix of relief and longing tangling in her chest. “Thank you. I want to explain.”
“There is no explanation necessary,” he said, ready to let it go.
But I was ready to tell him, let him in.
After a deep breath, I finally said, “The reason Ava and I moved back in was that my husband died a little over a year ago.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I mean . . . it’s not okay, grief is a work in progress, but I just wanted you to know. I didn’t want you to think Iwas anything you did or didn’t do. Or that I didn’t like you like that . . . gah, I’m rambling.”
“Thank you for telling me. And I meant what I said, I’m in no rush.”
He smiled, that gentle, grounding smile that had undone me from the start.
“I had a really good time tonight,” I said, my voice a little steadier.
“Me too,” he said. The kindness shining in his eyes was enough to take my breath.
He hesitated, then reached out, brushing his thumb lightly across her knuckles, a barely-there touch that somehow saidI see you. I’ll wait.
And I knew, in that small, electric moment, that I wanted to kiss him.
Not because I should. Not because I missed the past.
Because Iwanted to.
I took hold of his hand. It felt strong in mine. His gaze pinned me in place, questioning and hopeful. I leaned forward, and he did too. I licked my lips, and the world stood still.
"Are you sure?" he asked, barely loud enough to hear.
I was. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. Heat built inside of me as the whole world melted. His arms came around me as I thought I might turn into a puddle right there in the parking lot.
He pulled away with his eyes still closed as he took a deep breath.
"Can I take you out again?" he asked.
"I'd like that."
He opened my car door and gave me a final wave as he made his way to his own car.
When I finally drove away, I could still feel the ghost of his lips on mine. It was a promise I didn't know if I was quite ready for, but maybe, just maybe, was finally brave enough to want.
14
ELEANOR
By the time I pulled into the driveway, the house was dark. The porch light flickered like it couldn’t quite decide whether to stay on.
Inside, everything was still. I slipped off my shoes at the bottom of the stairs and padded up quietly, the wood cool under my bare feet. My mom’s door was closed. The soft drone of the TV leaking through the walls. And Ava’s nightlight glowed under her door in a warm, steady line.
I exhaled, relieved. I wasn’t ready for Mom’s commentary or Ava’s curious questions about how my “not-a-date” went. I wanted to hold the night close, keep it just for me for a little while.
In the bathroom, I turned on the shower and let the water run until the steam fogged the mirror. My reflection blurred, softening at the edges, and I stepped under the spray, closing my eyes.
Warm water cascaded down my shoulders, washing away the perfume and candlelight, but not the memory of his eyes, deep brown, steady, full of something that made my stomach flutter.
