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His arm wrapped snugly around me. A few seconds passed before he spoke again; his voice slipped through the dark.
“I spent so long thinking the best parts of my life were already behind me,” he whispered. “Then you walked back into it. I don’t know how I got lucky enough that you’re still here.”
Something inside my chest cracked open. Lane swallowed. Tears blurred my vision before I could stop them. His thumb brushed beneath my eye, catching one before it fell.
“Hey.”
A shaky laugh escaped. “Don’t make me cry.”
“Doctor’s orders?”
“Absolutely.”
A sleepy smile tugged at his mouth. “Bossy.”
“You’re welcome.”
His eyes finally closed.
I waited a few seconds before whispering, “You’re on my side of the bed.”
“I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?”
“Yes. My side appears to have expanded.”
I stared at him. “That is not how sides work.”
He breathed out a laugh too tired to say more.
But tonight, in the quiet of his room, surrounded by the little pieces of his life—the books he had dog-eared, the boots he kicked off by the door, the faint scent of laundry detergent and cedar that somehow felt like him—we simply stayed. Together. His fingers found mine beneath the blanket, even after sleep pulled him under. I held on. Not because I was afraid he would disappear. Because I finally believed he wouldn’t.
Sixty-Two
Lane
The front door clicked shut behind the detectives, and Cali released a long breath. They’d spent the last two hours interviewing me. Through it all, Cali had stayed by my side, as I recounted everything that had happened at Bryant’s house two days earlier. Bryant would probably spend the rest of his life behind bars. Julia had already given her statement, and the state had charged him with attempted murder before I’d even spoken to detectives. My statement filled in the last of the blanks. Between our testimony, Bryant’s own security footage, and the financial crimes uncovered during the investigation, there wasn’t much left for him to deny. For the first time in years, my muscles didn’t feel like they were braced for the next blow. Maybe this was what justice felt like.
“You okay?” Cali asked softly. She stepped between my knees where I sat on the couch, one hand threaded gently into my hair. Her fingers combed through the strands while her thumb traced a slow, comforting path across my temple. I leaned into her touch, pressing my cheek against her palm as I closed my eyes for a moment. When I looked up again, her bright blue eyes were searching mine with quiet reassurance.
“Yeah, I think it’s finally settling in that I don’t have to pretend that it was ever a functioning family. I’ve never lived without the anxiety of him popping up and somehow trying to control or ruin all of the good things in my life. I just—” I cut off as I struggled to find the words. One of Cali’s hands braced on my shoulder. Her touch stayed steady, never asking me to rush through what I couldn’t explain.
“It’s going to take time to process, but I want you to know that I’m here. Your friends are here. You’re not alone.”
“Yo, you got any chips in here?” We jerked apart at Jace’s words. He was holding a half-eaten snack cake in his hand.
“Jace,” Cali called in warning.
“There are some in the pantry on the second shelf,” I said, smiling as I reached to squeeze Cali’s hand.
“Score!” Jace spun around and was off.
“I’m sorry,” Cali said in apology for Jace’s familiarity.
“No way. I love that he feels comfortable here. You two come together. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said. Her lips parted, but nothing came out.
“I know he may never think of me as more than his coach, but Cali, I love you, and he’s a great kid.” The sound of something dropping made us both turn toward the kitchen in unison.
