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Daniel nuzzled my cheek, his stubble scraping mine. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Sometimes I’m scared to trust you.”
I nodded, turning my face to take a deep breath of his hair and neck, before rubbing our stubble together again.
“But that’s my problem,” Daniel said. “Not yours.”
“You can trust me,” I said. “I’m done lying. It ruins everything. That’s why I told you about running into him. I don’t want secrets between us.”
Daniel kissed my neck. “I believe you,” he whispered.
That was the thing. I believed in Daniel, too. We could believe and trust in each other.
That alone was worth more than I could ever express to him.
***
Later that night,after the fire died and the air grew cold, we returned to the big, empty house together. We were greeted at the door by Milky Way, who snuffled at us and licked our hands before rushing outside to do her business, and then trotting right back to her dog bed in the kitchen.
“She’s an early-to-bed-early-to-rise kind of girl,” Daniel said. “I think Kerri trained that into her with those morning ARK visits…” He sighed. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Milky Way ruffed and turned her butt to us, scowling at us over her shoulder.
“All right, all right,” Daniel laughed. “We’ll let you sleep.”
He turned off the kitchen lights, took my hand and pulled me back into the front hall and up the stairs. I was surprised—although maybe I shouldn’t have been—to see the boxes standing packed or half-packed in every room.
The size of the empty rooms with no one in them was impressive, and I thought about how it must feel to be Daniel. Until recently, these rooms had had two kids running around in them, and, for better or worse, his mom had been here, too.
I’d only been to his house three times before, and even I felt something was missing without Kennedy there to call me Mister.
“You’ve packed up a lot,” I said, as we passed by what appeared to be a crafting room, and then another room that looked like an upstairs living space with beanbag chairs around a TV.
“Keeping myself busy,” he murmured, squeezing my hand. “That way I don’t think so much about what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.”
He pulled me into his room and shut the door. The familiar space where we’d been alone together once before now felt like a haven. I saw he hadn’t started packing his own stuff yet. The oasis of his room remained sacred and untouched.
“You’re having regrets about selling?”
“No,” he said. “This house has been a burden for far too long. And with it gone, maybe my mom will do the right thing by the kids. It remains to be seen.” Daniel walked over to his boombox, turning it on. “Did you listen to the mixtape I sent you?”
“The first half.”
“The last song on it is my favorite. ‘Only You’ by Yazoo.” He held up a glossy CD showing two people sitting across the table from each other under dramatic lighting.
“The pop song? From when we were kids? I thought the group was called Yaz.”
“In the UK and the rest of the world, they’re known as Yazoo. Some sort of legality made them have to go by Yaz in the States.”
“Weird.”
“Yeah, but I love the song.” He popped the disc in the player and clicked through to the seventh track. “I keep listening to it ever since my grandparents left with the kids. It makes me happy.” He turned back to me as sweet, rhythmic synth sounds filled the room. His expression went shy. “I put it at the end of the mixtape, because…” Reaching out for my hands, he pulled me against his body, and he whispered in my ear, “It makes it too obvious how I feel about you.”
“You haven’t kept your feelings much of a secret,” I murmured.
“No, but when you hear the song, you’ll really know how you make me feel inside.”
