“I will.”
“I mean it. Don’t text. Call.”
“I’ll call.”
“And answer when I call you.”
Dustin’s chest tightened.
“I’ll answer.”
Cathy studied him.
Then she crossed the kitchen in three steps and hugged him.
Dustin wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he said into her hair. “For all of it.”
“Stop apologizing.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “Just come back.”
“Of course.”
She held on for a few more seconds.
Then she let go, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, and turned to Greg.
Greg stood in the kitchen doorway with his bandaged hands. He looked like he wasn’t sure he was included in this moment but desperately wanted to be.
Cathy walked up to him and hugged him.
Greg went rigid. His arms floated out to either side, unsure where to land. His eyes darted to Dustin over Cathy’s shoulder in pure, panicked confusion.
Dustin shot him a look that said,hugher back, idiot.
Gingerly, as if Cathy might break, Greg placed his bandaged hands on her back.
“Thank you,” Cathy said. She pulled back and looked at him. “For what you did.”
Greg blinked rapidly.
He must have been thinking about all the things he had actually done. The soul trade. The grocery store. The dissolution. All the things Cathy didn’t know and might never know.
“Take care of him,” Cathy said.
“That’s literally my job now,” Greg replied sincerely.
Cathy looked at him for a beat.
Then the corner of her mouth turned up.
“Good.”
She walked them to the door.
Dustin grabbed his bag, checked his pockets for his keys, and stepped onto the porch.
“Drive safe,” Cathy said.
“We will.”
