And I need him to be happy.
I stroke his hands that are still on me, smiling up at him. “Okay.”
“Thank you. And one last thing.” He cups my cheeks, his thumb ghosting over my gash. “Close your eyes and cover your ears for me, okay?”
“I can handle it.” Whatever it is. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“You’re notagirl, that’s true. You’remygirl.” He leans in, pressing our foreheads together. “I don’t want the day you told me you might be pregnant to be tainted with this. Me, moving around dead bodies.”
Warmth runs from the top of my head and down to my toes.
That’s all it takes to convince me to squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears.
Of course, I still hear mutedcracks andsplotchingsounds. Of course, I pick up on the faint scent of gasoline.
But I do my best to tune them out. Instead of being present, I picture the moment we’ll hug Varn. When we cozy up, all three of us in a hotel for the night. A temporary home until we build a new one together.
“I’m here.” I hear Duncan first. His lips, I feel them on mine at the same time he pries my hands off my ears.
The world disappears. It’s just me and his handsome face. “You are.”
“Eyes on me, okay? We’re getting out of this shithole.”
Instead of getting up, I stay where I am, tracing his jaw, his stubble prickly against my thumb. “Hey, Duncan?”
“Yes, Elowyn?”
“About the house,” I murmur, worry simmering beneath my skin. The scars he carries, and how our home went up in flames like his parents’ workplace, it has to hurt. “You haven’t said anything about the fire. Are you…” My face crumples. “It probably hurt to lose your home.”
“What are you talking about?” A soft smile curves his lips up. “I am home. I’m with you.”
A few seemingly simple words, and I’m sobbing. The pain and fear of the day pour out of me in the form of tears.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Duncan scoops me into his arms and starts walking. My eyes never leave his face, like he asked. “You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. I promise you, we will.”
I clutch onto his neck, afraid he might disappear again if I don’t. “Always?”
He stops outside the warehouse. Flicks open my dad’s old Zippo and lights it.
“Always.” Duncan kisses my forehead, tosses the Zippo through the door, and we’re off. “Always.”
EPILOGUE
ELOWYN
Five years later
The room is quiet, other than the sound of my breath.
My hand shivers, the pen threatening to slip from my fingers.
I can’t let that happen. I have to sign these papers.
But I can’t steady my hand either.
“Elowyn,” my husband says. His large hand on my arm is soothing. Grounding. “You’ve got this.”
His touch, his assurance, it’s what I need. My muscles relax. The pen stops bobbing.
