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Chris believed in me in a way that I could never believe in myself. And it actually did make me believe in myself. Like maybe he saw something I didn’t.

For the first time, I felt stable, because Chris was there to catch me if I fell off the tightrope I was walking. He wasn’t shaking the line like everyone else always did. He drove me to do deliveries when he wasn’t at work and when he was, he made me trade him and take his car because it was safer. He replaced my tires and didn’t even tell me—probably because he knew I wouldn’t let him. There was never a time that I got into either vehicle and it didn’t have a full tank of gas. He treated the idea of me stopping at a gas station like it would be an assault on his very character.

He thought ahead for me. Always. He knew what I needed before I needed it. And I loved it.

I loved it all.

Coming home to him. Him coming home to me. Staying up late talking, sharing space, sharing our lives.

And the ache lived inside of me now.

I never got a break from it. I felt it when I looked at him while he sat on his side of the sofa reading or when he was driving me to do deliveries. I felt it when I held one of his hoodies to my nose when he wasn’t home to see. I felt it when he woke up in the morning and he was a little scruffy, standing in the kitchen in his plaid pajamas making me breakfast and again after he got ready for work and I watched him leave.

Sometimes when he went to work, I missed him so much I drove there to take him lunch, just to have an excuse to see him. And when his eyes would light up when he saw me, that ached too.

This was what I never felt for Mike.

This was the thing that I kept trying to manufacture. Only with Chris it was real.

And there was nothing we could do about it. I wouldn’t hurt him by pursuing him and subjecting him to the loss of everyone he cared about, and he wouldn’t hurt Mike by pursuing me because that’s who Chris was. So it would be nothing, no matter what we wanted.

Lexi sipped her drink while she scrolled through my graze table photos. “You know Mike’s not talking to his mom, right?”

I cocked my head. “He’s not?”

“Nope. Because of how she did you. Janessa too. And word on the street is that he’s moving out of the guesthouse too. He’s been working for Tony full-time, quit the gym thing. I think you changed that dude’s brain chemistry.”

“Well, good.”

“Have you talked to him?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m not ready.”

I was glad he was doing something with himself though. And I did appreciate that he’d stood up for me to his mom. That meant a lot.

“Chris just texted you,” she said, handing me back my phone.

I read the message.

Chris: Three guesses for why our dog is soaking wet?

There was a picture of Woofarine sitting next to an open toilet looking like a drowned rat.

I laughed at my screen.

Me: Nooooooo

He sent an upside-down emoji and I cracked up.

“So what’s up with Chris?” she asked, watching me grin at my phone.

“Not much,” I said, putting my screen face down.

“I literally don’t know how you’re not having sex with that dude. I find acts of service so fucking attractive.”

I huffed. “Same. It’s not like that though,” I said, stirring my drink.

She gave me a look. “Girl, be so for real. That guy’s so into you.”