“I know.” I start tapping my fingers against the top of the table to distract myself from shaking my leg. It doesn’t work. “It’s just, what if I waited too long, and she doesn’t show?”
“She wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you if she wasn’t planning on coming.”
“But what if—”
“Alex.” Jules puts her hand over mine, stilling it, then points to the door.
Sarah steps inside the small café and closes her umbrella. I freeze, wondering for the millionth time if this was a good idea.
“Relax,” Jules whispers right before she waves, catching Sarah’s attention, and motions her over.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she says and hangs her coat on the back of her chair as Jules and I stand. “You know how a little bit of rain can make everyone a terrible driver?”
“Yeah, and you’re coming in from Maryland,” Jules jokes. It makes Sarah laugh and makes me release the breath I’ve been holding.
The two of them hug, and Sarah meets my gaze over Jules’s shoulder.
“Hi,” I say lamely when they pull away.
I make no effort to move, still unsure whether she really wants to be here or how she feels about seeing me. I barely said two words to her at my brother’s funeral and not much more than that in the six months since.
My breath whooshes from my lungs when she pulls me into a tight embrace. It takes me a moment to realize she doesn’t seem mad and another for me to wrap my arms around her so I can hug her back. She holds on tightly, and I let her.
My eyes start to water, and I squeeze them shut. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I didn’t know what to say.”
She exhales, her breath warm against my shoulder. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to say to you, either.”
We pull away, and I wipe at the tears that slide down my cheeks, and she does the same.
“It’s really good to see you,” she says sincerely.
“It’s really good to see you, too.”
Jules gently touches my arm. “I’m going to go freshen up before we order.” I nod, knowing she’s only slipping away to give me and Sarah a bit of privacy.
“I have something for you,” I say once we sit and before Sarah can say anything else. I reach inside my hoodie pocket and roll the plastic canister around in my hand before handing it over.
She takes Mason’s favorite fireheart dice and stares as though they’re the most precious things in the world. If anyone could appreciate the value in them, it’s her.
“You met my brother playing D&D. I think it’s only fitting for you to have them.”
Her eyes close, and she presses the dice to her chest like a lifeline.
“If there’s anything else of his you want, you’re welcome to it. Mom and I kept just about everything. We’re having a hard time letting any of it go.” Mom talks to Sarah about once a week, and I know she’s made the same offer.
“There was this sweatshirt,” she starts, her gaze on the dice and her bottom lip quivering. “He wore it all the time.”
“His lucky Reds hoodie,” I say with a smile. The same one he kept draped over the back of his chair.
“I know the Reds were your thing—”
“It’s yours,” I tell her quickly.
She looks at me then, her expression hopefully hesitant. “Are you sure?”
“Mason loved you. He would’ve given you the world.”
“I just wanted him,” she says so softly that it breaks my heart.
