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“You learned German,” he states.
“Three words. Not that impressive.”
He sucks in a deep breath. One that sounds unsteady. I’ve witnessed Beck angry and confused. Teasing and turned on. Sweet and understanding. I’ve never seen him look like this. His features sharpen, emotion making them appear more severe and sculpted. “I love you, Saylor Scott.”
I hoped he did. I wanted to tell him, regardless of whether or not he said it back. But I thought I was prepared, if he did decide to say it.
I’m not.
Because it’s one thing to hear others exchange those words, or to say them in different combinations.
It’s another matter entirely to have someone say them to you.
To hear them ring with sincerity.
“You don’t have to say it just because I did,” I tell him.
“I’m not. I’ve wanted to say it for a long time.”
“Yeah?”
He leans down to kiss me. “Yeah. Ich liebe dich auch.”
Turns out my pronunciation was terrible. I’m surprised he managed not to laugh.
Beck turns out the light, then lies down beside me. I snuggle into his chest, closing my eyes. Relaxing against his body.
I don’t deflect.
I don’t flee.
For the first and final time, I let myself fully fall.
EPILOGUE
BECK
You could hear a pin drop in the silent living room of Saylor’s childhood home.
I’ve never understood that expression. Not until right now, when it’s so quiet I can hear the rasp as I rub my sweaty palms against the cotton fabric of my shorts. Catch the steady whoosh of my own heartbeat. Marcus Scott takes a sip of water from the glass he’s holding, and I swear I can hear him swallow. His wife, Sandra, shifts beside him, looking as uncomfortable as I feel.
My usual confidence has dried up into nothing but uncertainty, trying to decide how to ask this. If I even should.
The back door opens and closes, the scuffle of shoes and babble of a toddler filling the formerly quiet house.
I’m caught somewhere between relief and dread at the sounds. Maybe it’s a sign. This was my one chance to talk to her father alone.
Hallie appears in the doorway a minute later, her son propped on one hip and her husband right behind her. Her eyes bounce around our awkward trio, Marcus and Sandra on the couch, me sitting on the armchair next to the fireplace that looks like it’s never been used.
“They took the tent,” she announces.
Marcus glances at his older daughter, and I take the opportunity to pull in a quick breath. My lungs feel tight and constricted, like an invisible fist is squeezing them.
“Great. Thanks, honey.”
Hallie’s attention is back on me before her father has even finished speaking. “Everything okay in here?”
“Adler wanted to have a quick word.” Marcus refocuses on me as he speaks, his expectant expression a reminder I said that and then haven’t managed to verbalize much else.
