I really believed closing my eyes would make the thoughts go away, but instead it does the opposite, and all I can suddenly remember, all I can suddenly relive is that kiss.
That moment when the whole world seems to fade, and it's just him and me, and I remember how it feels to have him cupping my face with his two large hands, his eyes looking into mine, and oh, when I remember him not calling me 'Ms. McKenna' for the very first time, but instead he calls me...
Katherine.
That memory alone has me gulping as I pull my knees up to my chin, but when I also remember him actually kissing me, his lips moving against mine as—
Buzz.
It's a notification from my building's management app.Lease termination confirmed. Security deposit refund processing.
All I can do is shake my head. Emily is such a miracle worker, with everything she's able to accomplish with a call here, a call there, and she even managed to give me a proper tour of Kazeyuki's home...which, apparently, is now my home, too.
Him. Me. Here.
Home.
I don't think I've ever had one of those before. Not really. Foster care gives you beds and roofs and rules about what shelf is yours in the fridge, but it doesn't give youthis— a place with so much room in it that there's space for you to just...be.
And the best part? Since I work from home anyway — well, from home and from my window seat in the hospital co-working space, but let's not get into that right now — the move doesn't change a single thing about my work routine. Laptop, WiFi, clients who only know me by email. I could be freelancing from the moon and no one would notice.
Because there's almost nothing in Kazeyuki's penthouse. A couch. A dining table with four chairs, even though I'm fairly certain Kazeyuki Collington has never once hosted a dinner party. A kitchen that looks like it belongs in a magazine, all white marble and brushed steel, with a kettle and a matcha set on the counter that are the only things that look like they've actually been used. The rest of it could be a showroom.
But it doesn't feel empty. That's the part that surprises me. It feels like it's beenwaiting.
There's another matcha set in the kitchen, different from the one in his office. This one's older. The bowl has a chip on the rim that someone has repaired with gold, and I don't know the Japanese word for it but I've seen it on Instagram, the art of fixing broken things by making the cracks beautiful, and the longer I look at it, the more it also reminds me of my own life, and how it all started coming together when Matt—
Oh gosh, Matt!
I reach for my phone as soon as I realize I've completely forgotten to update him.
Hi Matt. So...first, I need to confess something. Remember the snow globe you told me to take care of? It's, well...under repair? Please don't be mad? And um, that's not the only thing. I know you know about Dr. Collington—
A new message pops up at the top of my screen, and it's from Kaz.
What time will I see you tomorrow?
If I were still connected to a heart monitor right now, I don't even want to know what numbers I'd rack up. Just that single line alone from Kaz is...
Calm down, Kitty.
I think I'm going to focus on something easier, like finishing my reply to Matt.
Hi Matt. So...first, I need to confess something. Remember the snow globe you told me to take care of? It's, well...under repair? Please don't be mad? And um—
I start hitting Backspace until everything I've written about Kazeyuki is deleted and replace it with something simpler and quicker.
Can we meet?
Chapter Nine
THE ELEVATOR OPENEDonto a dark hallway, and Kazeyuki stood in it for a moment before stepping out.
The ER was still on him. Not blood, which had been scrubbed away hours ago, but something worse. It was just one of those stains that no one could see. It was something that people could only...sense,and the only ones who could sense them were those who, like Kazeyuki, worked in places where Death was a familiar face.
And tonight, the workplace...had all it could take of Death, who lingered longer than usual and invited more people than usual to his domain. It was a thought that still rested heavily on his shoulder as he pressed his thumb on the smart lock’s scanner.
The penthouse door recognized his fingerprint, the lock disengaged with a soft click, and Kazeyuki stepped inside and stopped.
