My insides pinch. “You won’t always be there.”
He hums. “I made you believe that today, but I promise you. I will always be there.”
Tristan pulls back, lets his hand drop. He’s hunting for something, head down, feet scuffing over the grass.
The rain is pelting us now, gathering force under the low, dark clouds. The property is magical in the storms we get. The sheets of rain turn the main house into something from a fairy story. The lights flicker on as I watch, but then I’m distracted by Tristan kneeling in the grass, uncaring of the rain.
“What are you doing?”
He’s plucking yellow flowers from a patch of grass, and my stomach bottoms out.
“Tristan. What are you doing?” My voice quavers slightly.
He’s braiding them together, his long fingers working smoothly to split and tie the stems. He’s still on his knees, and I crouch down to help.
“Four for happiness,” I murmur.
He gives me an unreadable look before he plucks another flower. “You remember.”
I nod shakily, not sure why my stomach feels like it’s being pulled in one direction while my heart goes in the other. “I remember. Five for luck.”
He nods and gently takes the two flowers from me.
Six for love.
His fingers are around my wrist, and he’s tugging me up. “Here.” He slips the bracelet over my hand, his eyes still on my face, even as his fingers brush against my inner arm.
My eyes are heating again, and I hope the cool rain hides the warm tears that start to spill.
“Katie. Don’t cry.” His thumb’s path toward my palm is distracting and comforting at once.
“I’m not crying. It’s raining.” My voice comes out broken and wet, and he smiles ruefully.
“You’re such a bad liar.” He lifts my hand, examining the bracelet of cheerful yellow flowers. “Stupid thing. Work, damn you.” He gives my arm a shake, and I choke a damp laugh.
“Is that how it worked for you?”
“It took me a long time to feel better. But it helped.”
I tip my chin up, searching his eyes. His hair is plastered to his head in dark gold ribbons. The rain tracks down from them, caressing the high planes of his face, filling the shallow divot above his lips before it spills over his mouth.
“Did it?”
“More than you know.” Our hands are linked now. “More than you could ever know, Katie.” His voice is husky. “Everyone was at the funeral that day, and I felt so…lost.” His fingers clutch around mine. “And then you were there. With your bracelet.” His soft mouth tilts upward in gentle amusement.
“You weren’t supposed to see.”
“I know.” His smile is growing. It threatens to tip over into something glorious. “You were so embarrassed.”
“I was.” I laugh, and drops of water sluice into my mouth. “It was so dumb.” I shake my head. “Just a silly thing David did with me as a kid.”
The day of his father’s funeral is etched in my memory—the black hearse, Aiden’s face, pale and set, the twins looking shaken and lost, but worst of all, Tristan. Somehow more alone than ever and clearly seeking something he didn’t know how to find. His eyes were wild when he found me in his kitchen. He looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack, shaken to his core.
His fingers dance along my palm, drawing shivers up my arm. “How did you know what I needed?”
“I just did.” I’ve spent more time thinking about Tristan than I want to admit, even back then. “You looked so scared. I felt that same way so many times in my life. Every time I showed up for a first day of school. Every time I had a birthday. Whenever I felt that way, I wanted just one friend to be there with me. The bracelets were a stand-in for that person, I guess. I thought it might help you too.”
His gaze feels weighty on my face, his fingers tightening around my own. “You saved me that day. I wanted to run. I almost did. And then there you were.” His lips curve up at the edges, his dimple peeking out. “Anchoring me. You’ve done that so many times. Let me do that for you too.” He tugs me toward him and I let myself be drawn closer, even though my heart is beating hard and proximity to Tristan feels like it might destroy me. “Don’t ever stop being my friend. Even when things are hard. Even if you feel like things are changing. I won’t run, okay? I promise.”
