I type back.
Me: Just got in. Press circus outside. Fans too. Rainbow ones. You’d have liked it.
The three dots appear and vanish. Then appear again.
Rafe: I do like it. You okay?
My chest warms.
Me: Yeah. Just tired.
There’s a pause before my phone buzzes again.
Rafe: Heading into the meeting. Talk later.
Right. AA. He attends once a month.
The pride that hits me is sharp and steady. Eight years ago, that wouldn’t have existed. Eight years ago, I didn’t even fully understand the depth of what he was fighting.
Me: Proud of you.
He doesn’t reply. He won’t have his phone on while he’s in a meeting.
I set mine down and focus on putting dirty clothes into the washer. The noise fills the silence. Then I sit on the couch and take a real, calmer breath. My mind immediately goes to Rafe and his parents. His mom hugging me. His dad shaking my hand like I already belonged. The way Rafe looked when I said I loved him.
My chest squeezes. My phone buzzes again. This time it’s Cassius.
Cass: Open the door.
I blink. Then I laugh and get up. I don’t even check the camera. I know it’s him. He’s also on the “approved” list of visitors, and there’s no way anyone downstairs will be letting anyone else up.
When I open the door, he’s there in all his six-foot-six glory, holding two massive bags of takeout. “You look like shit,” he says cheerfully.
“Thanks.”
He steps inside without waiting for an invitation. “I bring food and emotional support,” he announces.
I shut the door behind him. “You’re alone?”
“Kid’s asleep and with my parents. Dylan’s on shift. I told him I’d behave.”
“Liar.”
He grins. “Absolutely.”
The smell of food hits me and my stomach growls. “You’re a hero.”
“I know.”
We settle at the kitchen island, containers open and chopsticks at the ready. For a few minutes, we just eat. It’s normal. God, I needed normal.
“So,” Cass says eventually, leaning back in his chair. “How are you actually?”
I swallow. “Not too bad.” We’ve exchanged several texts since I outed myself a few days ago.
He raises an eyebrow.
“Actually, better than that,” I amend.
