The dark holds it.
He doesn’t answer right away.
“Yeah,” he says, finally. “Me too.”
My eyes fall open, feeling a little more sober. I let theme toosoothe me. It’s like a balm to my open wound. And my heart sings. I clutch at his hoodie. I didn’t know all I needed to hear to heal a big part of me was a simple pair of words. I don’t push any further. I don’t ask how often, or what about it, or do you regret it, even though I really want to. I let his words echo in my head. For tonight, this is more than enough. I snuggle my head onto his pillow and exhale, closing my eyes.
“Are you still going for your social work degree?”
“Yeah. Are you working towards going pro?”
“You don’t know?”
My heart starts racing, waking me right up. “What?”
“I’m drafted. Fourth round.”
“Wait,” I sit up, reaching for him. My hand falls on his forearm. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, you sound surprised.”
“Blue!” I fall on the bed and laugh. My hair whips onto my face. “That’s incredible! Your dream is coming true!”
I can hear the smile in his tone. “Yeah.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? Don’t justyeahme.” I scoff.
“I’m drafted in the fourth round. It’s different from first round like Benson and Stanley.”
“Yeah, but Stanley is literally named after the Stanley Cup.”
“How do you know that?” he asks.
I shrug. “Uh, I don’t actually know.”
“His dad was a big hockey player and won the Stanley Cup, so he named Stanley after that.”
“Would you name your son Stanley?” I joke.
He pauses.
When he’s silent for too long, I ask, “Do you want to have kids?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers.
Before I open my big mouth, I close it and think. He’s watched his mom be a single mom for most of his life, so I don’t blame him for not knowing.
“Do you?” he asks.
I inhale, breath stalling. I don’t know why I hesitate, but I do. Then, I answer, “Yeah, I do.”
“How many?”
“Two.” The room is silent again. “Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask. “Or anyone you’re seeing?”
He’s quiet. “No.”
“Like at all?”
