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A tear slid down his cheek as he nodded.

“I’ve never cried in front of anybody,” he confessed. “Not once.”

My chest tightened. I covered his hand with mine. “I was eight when my mother died in a car accident, but I still remember exactly how it felt when I found out. Everything stopped. I sat on the stairs in my pajamas and listened to my father talking on the phone. I didn’t understand everything he was saying. I only understood that she wasn’t coming home.”

Richard’s gaze lifted to mine. “I’m sorry you went through that. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Especially you.”

“I wish I knew what to say to make this easier.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I want to help you.”

“You are.” His fingers tightened around mine. “You’re the only person I wanted here.”

The confession brought tears to my eyes. “Then I’m staying.”

His shoulders relaxed for the first time since I arrived. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without them.”

“You don’t have to figure that out tonight. I can stay as long as you need me.”

His eyes held mine. “Will you?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I moved closer and rested my head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me, and neither of us spoke for several minutes. I listened to his breathing and held his hand, giving him the comfort I once wished someone had known how to give me.

After a while, he began talking again. He told me about the memories that kept returning when he least expected them and the questions he would never get to ask. I listened until his voice grew quiet.

“You don’t have to keep talking,” I whispered.

“I don’t usually let anyone see me this way.”

“I’m glad you let me.”

His arm tightened around me. We remained on the couch until the sunlight disappeared from the windows and the tea on the table went cold.

When I finally lifted my head, his face was close to mine. His eyes moved across my features, but he made no attempt to kiss me. I touched his cheek, wanting to take away even a small portion of what he was feeling.

Then I kissed him.

His lips moved gently against mine before he pulled away.

“Samantha, you don’t have to comfort me this way.”

“That isn’t why I kissed you.”

His eyes searched mine. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I want to be close to you.”

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and I wrapped my arms around him. His hands settled at my waist, holding me without trying to take more. We stayed on the couch, kissing slowly until the sadness between us gave way to something more intimate.

When he stood, he offered me his hand.

I stared at it, understanding what accepting it could mean. My nerves told me to slow down, but I didn’t want the night to end. I placed my hand in his and let him lead me to the bedroom.

The room was large and neatly decorated in dark furniture, crisp white sheets, and one lamp casting a low golden glow. Richard closed the door behind us. He turned on the stereo, a soft, hazy song filled the space, “Playground Love” by Air.