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“Why not?” I gently ask. Prodding this truth out of her feels like it’s a fulcrum that allows me to crack open the future.
“Because I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe you’d do that to me. Just...let them.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know. Even in the face of what looked so obvious, I just...knew. I knew you wouldn’t do that to me, but God, Drew, it hurt so much.” She tightens her hold on me, her body starting to tremble. When you’re pressed naked, toe to shoulder, against someone, you feel everything.
“So you had to hold two truths inside you at the same time. Two truths that couldn’t co-exist.’
She jolts, her head popping up, eyes beseeching. “Yes. Exactly. How did you know?”
“Because that’s what I hoped for four years. That some part of you trusted me enough to know that the obvious couldn’t be true.”
“It’s the same with that picture they texted me. The one with you and part of my red scarf.”
Breathe, Foster. Breathe.
Bzzz.
“Reality,” I sigh, letting out a sound of relief that I pretend is frustration as I search for my phone. Lindsay ends the sound by kissing me. The sound turns, twisting into a decidedly different groan.
“Thank you,” she says.
“No need.” I kiss her forehead. We just breathe together, so much unsaid.
We have time.
Bzzz.
Or not.
“Besides,” I add, standing grudgingly, searching for my clothes, knowing the phone’s in there somewhere. “This time, you’re not stealing my weapon.”
The laughter pours out of her like a contagion and she sits up, pulling me back to the bed. It’s hopeless. I can’t not laugh. I curl up around her, cocooning her, arms and legs tucked in.
She’s shaking in my arms, the vibration making my skin tingle.
It’s good to hear her laugh.
It’s even better to laugh together.
“I’m sorry,” she finally gasps. “I couldn’t trust you.”
I stop laughing.
Her skin is dewy and warm, a light trace of heat along the pores making her flush.
“Talk to me,” I say. “Tell me more.”
She sighs, a little sound of vulnerability. It makes my throat tighten. That’s the sound someone makes when they are about to be real.
I’ve wanted nothing more than the real Lindsay this whole time.
Thank God she’s finally here.
“Drew,” she says, her hand snuggling on my bare chest, the lines of her tendons standing out as she moves. “They broke me. Ripped me apart – literally.” Her thighs shift and my shoulders tighten.
“I know.”
