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“Because he got to see you every day while I listened to everyone’s complaints at group therapy.”
I laughed, and he just stared at me like he was waking up from a dream.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to pull away but he held me back.
“Let me be greedy for one more minute,” he mumbled, engulfing me in a warm embrace.
We lay in silence, holding each other like it was our last time seeing each other.
“I’m a horrible person. I shouldn’t have … I—” he began.
“Tristan, it’s okay,” I interrupted.
“No, none of this is okay. I fucking hit you with a lamp. How is that okay?”
“Yes, you did, but you were not yourself,” I said, pulling away and cupping his face.
“This is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I should have avoided it somehow and …”
“Listen to me,” I chipped in. “I don’t even remember it. Let’s move on and leave it behind.”
“I hurt you. I put you in a hospital bed and—”
“I can cook pasta now. Morris taught me,” I said chirpily.
“We need to talk, Chloe.”
“I’m sick of the guilt speech. I feel awful too, Tristan, for not doing enough to help. None of what happened is your fault. I never blamed you.”
“You have no idea how much your presence in this house means to me,” he said with a sad smile, tracing my face with his fingers.
I had faith that he was going to get better, and I wanted to be here to help. He was human, and he had flaws, like everyone else.
“I could teach you how to make my Nana’s favorite food,” he offered.
“Okay, I’m in,” I said with a clap.
We got off the floor, and I grabbed the bottle of water I’d abandoned. I realized he was staring at me as I gulped down the water. I turned to him with a questioning look. He looked as if he couldn’t believe this was real. He took my arm and pulled me closer. He kissed me softly, not rushed or aggressive, but slow, as if he wanted to cherish this moment.
“Thanks for staying,” he whispered against my lips.
“Thanks for not killing me,” I said jokingly.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, and I laughed, realizing it was too early for such a joke.
“When did you get here?” I asked.
“Last night?”
“Wait, what?”
“You were already sleeping, and you looked so tired. You were gone before I left my room this morning.”
“My dad called; he wanted to see me.”
He looked tense.
“I told him the truth. I can’t believe he still thought there was a baby.”
