Page 115 of Reeves

"Thank you so much for all of your grace these last few days. I'm very grateful."

"Thank you for being here. I'm glad to know you didn't choose the way this all unfolded. We still need to figure out what we both want this to look like, but maybe we think about it for a little longer."

I don't say anything because I don't know what you say to that. She's thanking me for being here when I've been absent from their lives, leaving her to do it on her own.

"Goodnight, Reeves."

"Goodnight."

She turns and walks down the hallway. Her bare feet make no sound on the wood floors. A door closes softly, and then the house falls silent.

I sit on the edge of the couch and pull off my boots. Theleather makes small creaking sounds in the quiet. Everything is too loud.

I lie back against the pillow and stare at the ceiling.

The couch is comfortable. More comfortable than half the bunks I’ve slept on. The blanket smells like the same fabric softener scent I haven’t been able to escape all day.

And I don’t want to. I pull it to my face and inhale her, closing my eyes.

I shouldn’t have leaned across that table, and I know it.

But the memory won’t leave me alone. The way her breath caught when my lips found hers, the way she didn’t pull away at first. For a second, she was right there with me, like no time had passed at all.

That’s the part that sticks.

Because it means whatever we had didn’t end that night. It’s still here, sitting just under the surface, waiting for the smallest crack.

And that’s exactly the kind of trouble I was trying to avoid by coming here in the first place.

TWENTY-SIX

Charli

The Raise:Someone lifts their hands. Then another. Then the whole street. The second line does not begin with one person — it begins when no one can hold still any longer.

I closethe bathroom door and lean against it for several minutes. My heart pounds out of my ribcage.

After a few minutes of bringing my heart rate down, I walk over to the tub and turn on the faucet. I stare at it, watching the water fill the old clawfoot tub. The sound drowns out everything else, which is exactly what I need right now.

Three days ago, my biggest concern was whether to accept a corporate buyout of my practice. Now the only man who has ever broken my heart is sleeping on my couch, and Benjy has become enamored with a man he doesn't know is his father. A man who has been absent his entire life.

The water is hot enough to turn my skin pink. I sink into it slowly, letting the heat work into my shoulders and neck. The tension I've been carrying since Thursday starts to loosen.

I close my eyes and let myself remember the afternoon. Notthe kiss on the patio, which I'm still trying not to think about. The smaller moments.

He's good with him.

That shouldn't surprise me as much as it does. Reeves was always observant, always able to understand what people needed. It's why I fell in love with him in the first place.

He kept an arm's length, wore a gruff exterior, but he's always been an extremely caring man.

Steam rises from the water, making everything soft around the edges. I sink deeper until the water reaches my chin.

The water is cooling now, but I don't want to get out yet. The quiet gives me space to think without Benjy's questions or Reeves's presence pulling my attention in different directions.

Reeves was always magnetic because of that intensity. Everything felt urgent when we were together. Every kiss, every fight, every makeup afterward.

But nothing ever lasted. We’d burn through each other, swear we were done, and then fall right back into it.