His body shook.
“I can feel being happy with you.”
I rubbed his back.
“You never had to prove it.”
“I needed it.”
“I know.”
“I thought I was making it up. The whistle, your hand, the way you felt.”
“You weren’t.”
He pulled back and put my palm over his heart.
“I felt this in the memory.”
His heartbeat raced beneath my hand.
“Not just knowing you were there. Knowing you were mine.”
My throat closed.
“I was.”
“Are.”
The correction came fast.
I stared at him.
Noah seemed startled by his own certainty.
Then he nodded.
“Are.”
I laughed through tears.
“Yes.”
He kissed me.
The kiss tasted of salt and sleep and relief.
We held each other until the first light reached the curtains.
Then Noah drew back abruptly.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“The green navigation lamp.”
“You remember buying it?”
