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“I’m sure,” he says.
“I don’t want him to feel like a ghost attached to us,” I say, uncertain. I don’t know exactly what we are yet. Part of me does, but the other part of me still won’t admit it.
“He’s not,” he assures me. “I promise you. I told you that he would always be a part of you, and I will never resent that or you for feeling that way. I promise.”
I nod, giving him a small and appreciative smile.
He says, “So he wanted to one-up Madeline and Elliot?” He smiles.
“Yeah, he thought it would have been funny. And it would have. But I said ‘hell no’,” I say with sentimental amusement. “My brother has a few tattoos but they’re all hidden so my mom can’t see. She would lose her mind.”
He laughs, “Yeah my parents weren’t happy with any of mine. My mom will still sometimes jokingly try to rub them away.” I laugh now.
“That’s cute,” I say and he nods. We both take another bite of food, the silence feeling comfortable and not strained or awkward. We keep the conversation going throughout our meal as we finish our food. I help him clean up the dishes and he invites me to stay for a movie or just to watch TV.
“Maybe next time?” I say, and he nods even though I see his chest deflate a bit. “I just have to finish a budget proposal for tomorrow. I also have a meeting first thing in the morning,” I explain.
“I totally understand. I have about twenty essays to grade that I will probably be up until past midnight doing.” He laughs, his hand going up to brush the back of his head. His muscles stretch in the movement and I find my eyes following them.
I’ve tried to not let myself think about how attractive he is, and now that I’ve let myself notice it, it’s hard to look away.
I wait for that guilt to creep in, but it doesn’t.
Be happy, the voice says in my heart.
“Thank you for dinner,” I tell him sincerely. “It was so good, and I had a great time with you.”
He smiles. “Thank you so much for coming.” I walk to the front door and slip my heels back on and grab my purse off of the coat rack. He follows me and opens the door. “You’re welcome every time—any time, I mean.” He laughs.
I turn, and instead of moving towards the door, I face him. Only a few inches away, I hear his breath hitch as he looks down at me, though not as far down as normal with my heels on.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say again, and internally I cringe because I just said that and now he must know I’m nervous and lingering. He bites his lip, hiding a smile.
“You’re welcome every time. Any time,” he says again jokingly and I let out a laugh of my own, looking down at the ground before looking back up at him.
He looks at me, and I look at him, neither of us moving, barely breathing. He whispers, “Can I kiss you, Ana?”
I nod my head quickly. “Yes,” I whisper back.
He closes the distance slowly and carefully. He doesn’t break our eye contact and moves as if he’s worried I’ll change my mind. But I don’t want him to stop. I want him to kiss me. I want to be happy again. I want to let myself feel happy again.
I lean in the last few inches and he presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss—a sweet kiss. My eyes flutter closed and I feel him pull away. I don’t open my eyes right away; I take a deep breath and then I open them to find him watching me, a mix of nerves and hope in his expression.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and my heart breaks at his consistent gentleness, making sure I’m okay because he knows how fragile my heart is. He knows how huge of a moment this is for us—for me.
I nod, and give him a small smile. “I am,” I say, finding those words to be truthful. I am okay, I will be okay.
Hayden would want you to be happy. He would want you to live.
I take a deep breath and I reach up once more to press my lips to his a little harder this time. He freezes for just a moment before he kisses me back. His hands move up to hold my face and I rest my hands against his chest before moving one hand to his neck, to the spot where I feel the pumping of his pulse. I keep it there, feeling the steady beat of the life inside his veins. Our lips move slowly and only a few seconds pass before we both pull away. His hands still hold my face, so delicately like he’s holding precious china.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say once more with a chuckle, and his breathy laugh flutters against my face.
“Thank you for coming.” He smiles at me. I didn’t realize a tear had fallen from my eye until he wipes it away slowly, still smiling sincerely at me.
“You’re such an incredible man, David,” I whisper.
His brows furrow in emotion. “You’re indescribable, Ana.”
