Her voice was steady, but the effort it took was visible. “I know how it feels to go back over everything, looking for what you did and where you missed it. Then you realize you didn’t miss anything because you’re an idiot. You miss it because you loved them.”
Colin didn’t speak for a moment.
“I kept tabs on her,” he said. “The little girl. Katie. I’ve looked her up. Hated myself for it every time. I have no claim to her, she’s not mine, but I couldn’t stop.”
“Of course you couldn’t,” Maren said simply. “You already loved her.”
Colin had to look away.
“The thought of going through that again.” He stopped.
“I understand now.”
He held on to her hand.
They sat like that for a while, the owl silent outside, the lamp warm and low, and Colin thought about the first night he’d been lying on this couch unable to sleep, listening for Maren and Juni down the hall.
“Juni picked you,” Maren said quietly. “I want you to know that. She’s never done that before. Not like she did with you.”
“She has good taste,” he joked to cover up the sudden ache in his heart.
Maren laughed softly. “She really does.”
She didn’t take her hand back. Colin knew he should let go. Knew that holding Maren Walsh’s hand after dark while Juni was elsewhere was the kind of decision that didn’t have a reverse gear.
You should tell her to go to bed, he thought.You should stand up, walk to the kitchen, give her space.
He looked at her instead. At the lamplight catching the line of her jaw, the way she was looking down at their joined hands.
Her thumb brushed across his knuckles—once, twice—and Colin felt that touch everywhere.
“Maren.”
And from the way her breath changed, he knew she understood.
TWENTY-THREE
“You should go to bed,”he said, his voice sounding rough.
She lifted her head. Her eyes were dark in the low light from the lamp beside the couch. “I don’t want to leave you.”
His heart kicked hard against his ribs. “Maren?—”
“I’m not saying that because I feel sorry for you.” Her voice was steady. Clear. “I’m saying it because I want to stay with you.”
Colin searched her face and found no uncertainty there.
Just Maren, looking at him like he was exactly what she wanted.
“You’re sure?” he asked quietly.
“I’ve been sure since you tucked Juni in and read her Rapunzel.” Maren’s mouth curved, soft and a little rueful. “Maybe before that. I’m not great at timelines right now.”
Colin’s laugh came out rough. “Same.”
“So let me stay. Please. Or,” she squeezed his hand, “come with me to my room, and you can stay there instead.”
Colin’s head was spinning.
