Kael shakes his head, gaze fixed on the fire. “He was miserable, rich, and there just enough to hurt her. Once he left, she raised me herself. I can’t hate her for leaving.” His voice thins. “I ruined her life.”
“What? No.”
“Gram said he was always volatile. But before me, it was… contained. Like a storm way out at sea. I was the lightning rod. My crying, my needs… normal baby stuff, but I was what set him off. He was a monster, but I triggered him. If it weren’t for me, she could’ve navigated it better. Left sooner. I’m the reason the storm hit her shore.”
A tear slips down his cheek, catching the firelight. I brush it away and leave my hand resting on his skin just below therim of his glasses. He turns from the flames toward me, eyes uncharacteristically dull.
“That may be what you think,” I say, my hand still on his cheek, “but that doesn’t make it true.”
Kael’s eyes close on a long, shaky breath. He leans into my touch, cheek pressing into my palm like he needs it, and the whole careful structure I’ve built my life inside gives with one quiet crack.
I lean in, close enough to feel his breath.
My phone rings, and Kael’s on his feet before I can answer. The temperature drops as cold air rushes in where his body used to be. I hate every second of that ringtone.
“Sorry,” I blurt, laughing too high. I never laugh like that. “I mean, sorry for— It’s Jenny.”
I answer.
“Everything okay there?” she asks.
“Great. Kael lit us a fire.”
“You should be okay sleeping until sunrise. Internet says wildfires don’t spread as fast at night. Am I on speaker?”
Kael yanks a dusty cloth off an antique roll-top desk. “Hi, Jenny.”
“Sorry again for the scare,” she says. “Force of habit.”
“Your poor kid,” he says, holding his nose as he moves to the next piece of furniture.
“Wyatt’s worse than I am,” Jenny says, while Kael reveals an old wooden chair. “That boy would hide in a trash can all day if it meant he could ambush me.”
“Remind me not to hang at your place after this.” He tries a lamp, but there’s no bulb.
“You boys stay safe,” she says. “Ash, you’ve got enough charge to last through the night?”
“I’ll plug back into my laptop,” I say, digging in my bag. “Thanks, Jenny. We owe you.”
“Sleep tight,” she says. “Don’t let the Charlie ghost bite.”
Her chuckle cuts off with the line, and my heart knocks once at the sudden quiet. Just us again. No more interruptions.
Kael stands with a ratty cloth draped over one arm, sweeping his hand over a dusty table where he’s set out two granola bars and two water bottles like it’s a banquet.
“Dinner is served!” He bows and becomes the host of our dinner party.
I play along, because how could I not? “A feast fit for kings.”
“Cheerio,” he says, winking as he unwraps his granola bar. I wonder what would happen if I sat beside him instead of across from him. Wonder way too hard.
“Cheerio,” I echo, wishing I could reach across the table and touch him again.
The glow of the moment fades, replaced by the old promise I made myself. Chase already stole years off my timeline, and he’s Warren Buffett compared to Kael’s meme stock.
Kael sits and waits. I choose the chair opposite to keep a safe distance away, but feel his eyes lingering until I look up.
“You really have two million dollars?”
