My chest squeezes. Why does hesay stuff like that? Doesn’t he know it makes it harder to keep secrets?
Another pause. The dots return.
Keane: I won’t push. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me.
Relief and disappointment crash together in my chest. He’s giving me space, which is good and safe. Which is also torture, because I want him tomakeme say it.
Pushing off the wall, I pad into my bedroom and flop down dramatically on the mattress, muttering to myself, “One of these days, Oren, you’re going to choke on your own cowardice.”
But when I peek at the phone again, his last message is still there, a warm and reassuring hand on my shoulder.
Keane: In the meantime…drink some water for me, yeah?
Yes, Sir… Daddy.
