AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hi.” I feel shy suddenly, and I worry that the words we whispered over the phone weren’t real.
“Hi.” He raises his eyebrows hopefully. “Hope you’re hungry.”
I sniff garlic in the air and realize I am hungry.
“Dad fixed chicken parm.”
“You did?” I look at Ryle and then back at Truman.
“And?” Truman prompts Ryle.
“I promised I would try the sauce.”
“You did?” This time I look at Ryle with disbelief. He nods, but he looks miserable with his decision.
“But first!” Truman says. I glance at him. He’s looking at Ryle.
“Yes!” Ryle does the celebratory fist bump and dashes out of the kitchen.
“Tell me everything,” I say quietly. Truman unties the apron and tosses it on the counter. “Oh, I liked that look on you.”
He grins as he comes close enough to slide his arms around my waist and pull me against him.
“You’re here.”
His whisper chases a chill down my back.
“I’m home.”
I think I mean more than the fact that I’m standing in the house Ryle and I live in. But I’m so scared right now, I’m afraid to breathe, let alone say what I’m thinking.
“Julie.” Truman kisses my cheek. “I love you.”
Tears burn my eyes again, and suddenly, my arms are around him, and I’m holding tight, like I’m afraid he’s going to disappear.
“I never stopped,” he whispers. “Never.”
“Hey!” Ryle yells and beelines for us when he comes back to the kitchen. I glance at him and see he’s carrying his new remote control plane. Of course, he would want to show me that before he eats dinner. With spaghetti sauce. “Me, too.”
Tears streak my face as he squeezes in between me and Truman.
“I want things to be different now,” Truman whispers. There’s so much we need to say to each other. Six years of things we held back, things we didn’t share. But not here, not in front of Ryle.
“Me, too.” I kiss Truman’s cheek and thrill at the feel of his beard stubble on my skin. With a sniffle, I draw away from him and look at Ryle. “’kay. Show me your plane, pilot.”
“Why are you crying?” he asks with a frown. He shoots a look of worry at Truman.
“Happy tears,” I tell him.
“What are happy tears?”
“The way Grandma cries when she watches the wedding movie.”
“Wedding movie?” I ask Truman.
“The Princess Diaries.”
“Oh.” I nod, but Ryle takes my hand and tugs me toward the door. “Okay. Let’s go.”
