“I remember them.”
“That’s what I mean.”
His voice thinned.
“You know things about me I don’t know. Everyone comes in and looks at me like I’m supposed to be someone for them. Leah wants her brother. Those men want their friend. The doctors want progress.”
He looked directly at me.
“And you want him back.”
I could have lied.
“Yes.”
His face tightened.
“But I’m not asking you to pretend,” I said. “And I’m not waiting for you to perform some exact version of the man you were.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the man I love would hate that.”
He looked away.
I had said love.
The word had entered without permission.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Stop apologizing.”
“I’m trying not to crowd you.”
“You sit six feet away.”
“I can sit farther.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I waited.
Noah rubbed the caramel wrapper between his fingers. “When you’re here, you act like every breath I take matters.”
“It does.”
“That’s crowding.”
“I don’t know how to make it matter less.”
His eye closed.
I thought I had ruined everything.
