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“None of that now, sweetheart. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
This time, when I hear sweetheart, a fresh burst of tears comes out. “It’s all my fault. I made him come out here because I broke up with him…”
And then I’m crying again, too hard to say more.
“Did we really break up?” Cade asks, his voice strained and his face twisted in grief, so close to mine.
I know every freckle and the exact angle of his sharp cheekbones.
I know every emotion ringing through his body, because they’re the same ones in mine.
“I thought we did,” I whisper, even though the truth is I did.
I thought I had to, but now it hurts so much I’m not sure I can stand it.
“Let’s go sit down.” Henry leads us back to the hut, guiding us both confidently over the submerged walkway with a hand at our backs.
I should probably be ashamed of enjoying that so much, but I remember what Sophia said about him, and the reason that he’s on top of The List.
Henry likes taking control, and if there was ever a time for me to throw myself into the arms of a man strong enough to catch me, this is it.
We settle onto the plush, white cushions of the woven-grass benches, Henry positioning us on either side of him. We’re not quite touching him, but he’s near, and I know it’s that—his confident, calm presence—that keeps Cade distracted from panicking again even though there’s nothing to see around us but darkness and ocean.
“Why don’t you two tell me what’s going on?” Henry says gently. “Sophia was telling me just a bit ago that you two have been together for years, and I could see a lot of love between the two of you when you were dancing.”
I look at Cade, a familiar, silent who’s going to talk first? conversation that we’ve had a million times before.
As usual, we fight over it with our eyes, both offering it to the other first, and with increasing discomfort for being the one to go. And, also as usual, since Cade really hates speaking up, whereas I just dislike it in some circumstances and know how to pull up my big girl panties, I’m the one who’s going to take it.
“Cade, you go first,” Henry interrupts before I can. “Tell me how you two met.”
Cade looks up at him with a shy smile, and my eyes suddenly well up with tears all over again.
I love that smile. And I love that Henry has been able to help Cade calm down so much, almost miraculously so, in the midst of everything that’s happening.
“Uh, Yaz and I actually met at this little campus theater—you know, where the film club would play a quirky retro movie every night, and it was two dollars or something?” Cade starts as I quickly brush my tears away and even laugh a little, his words bringing up memories. “So, one night,” he goes on, “they were playing Mama Mia!”
“Which is his favorite movie,” I butt in.
Cade’s cheeks pink up, but he doesn’t disagree. He does get an encouraging smile from Henry, though.
“Which is my favorite movie,” Cade continues. “And the only other person in the theater was Yaz. Somehow, we started laughing, calling out the lines, singing along, talking to each other…”
“And mooning over Pierce Brosnan,” I add.
“Yeah.” Cade’s blush is getting deeper. “A little bit.”
I grin. “More than a little bit—”
Henry taps me on the nose. “Do you always interrupt, little girl?”
I squirm, loving the attention and the rebuke in equal measure. “Only when he’s leaving out the good parts.”
Henry turns to Cade. “And does that bother you?”
Cade shrugs and shakes his head. “She tells stories better.”
“Hmmmm…” He looks us both over, but settles on Cade. “Well, I want you to finish telling me this one, sweet boy.”
