Page 72 of Piece By Piece

He almost laughed.

No, not almost.

He actually laughed, something that sounded like relief, like a man who might have been holding his breath for three years and finally let it go.

They stood at the marsh railing for a long time, not talking, just standing there, her head tilted toward his shoulder, his hand resting on the railing next to hers, their pinkies overlapping.

“For the record,” he said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it, “you are the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing I think of at night. And of course, you’re all in between.”

He paused.

“Is that enough?”

She turned her head and looked at him.

His face was serious, a Grant kind of serious, which meant he was laying himself open and bracing for what she would say.

She laced her fingers through his.

“It’s more than enough.”

They walked back to the square as the last light of the day faded, side by side.

CHAPTER 12

Liza fell asleep that night with the crossword on the pillow beside her. She had smoothed it out flat and put it on the pillow next to her, right next to her father’s book.

She lay on her side, looking at the two of them in the moonlight streaming through the window, one old, one new, both made with the same hands. Her father’s favorite crossword creator. The man who had kissed her by the marsh, the man who had hidden the word STAY inside a grid like a love letter.

For the first time in months, she didn’t feel lost.

She actually felt found.

Across the square, in his small rented house, Grant lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

His phone glowed on the nightstand.

He could see the email from Meridian was still there.

The deadline was still ticking away.

Only a few days now.

He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his face and the curl of her fingers in his collar.

There was something devastating about being close to someone after years of keeping everyone in the world at arm’s length.

His phone buzzed.

There was a new email.

He glanced over at the subject line.

Final offer. Response required by month’s end.

He turned his phone face down on the nightstand and forced his eyes closed, but he didn’t sleep.

Not for a very long time.