“For seeing them.”
That breaks something small and important in me.
“They’re your people,” I say.
He looks away. “I do not have people.”
“Too late.”
His gaze returns to mine.
I smile gently. “They have you. You have them. That’s people.”
He says nothing, but silence does not always mean absence. Sometimes it means a man has heard too much truth and needs a moment to survive it.
Inside, Darlene is waiting by the counter with a cigarette, two mugs of tea, and the expression of someone who knows everything without being told.
“How was the underworld?” she asks.
“Damp,” I say.
“Romantic.”
“Darlene.”
She looks at Kauss. “You bring her back in one piece?”
“Yes.”
“Shame. She’s harder to manage whole.”
I set the empty bags down and lean against the counter, suddenly exhausted. Kauss moves toward the repaired display case to check the temperature because emotional avoidance apparently comes with technical skills.
Darlene sidles closer to me. “So?”
“So what?”
“Did meeting his sewer family make you less stupid about him?”
I look at Kauss across the room. He is bent slightly over the display case, broad back filling the space, scarred hands adjusting the temperature reader with careful precision. The paper dragon Esme drew peeks from the inside pocket of his coat. My heart feels full enough to hurt.
I whisper, “No.”
Darlene follows my gaze and sighs. “Well. At least you’re honest.”
“I’m in trouble.”
“Oh, honey.” She hands me tea. “You’ve been in trouble for days. You’re just finally reading the sign.”
Kauss looks up then, as if he senses my attention. Our eyes meet across the bakery, past the repaired case, the clean counter, the warm lights, and all the fragile things we are both pretending not to want.
I swore I would never risk my heart again.
The promise feels very far away tonight.
Or maybe it is still right there in my hands, waiting for me to decide whether love is a risk or the reason risks are sometimes worth taking.
CHAPTER 14
