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And despite the weight pressing into my gut, despite the fresh wave of tears threatening to spill down my cheeks…

I giggled.

“Only you would crack a joke right now,” I murmured.

She shrugged innocently, the smirk on her full lips betraying her guilt.

“I’m not kidding,” she insisted. “I really suck at tuba. But if you’re willing to learn, so am I.”

“You’re sure about this?” I asked warily, my heartbeat speeding up. “You’re not just saying all of this?”

Frankie got to her feet and walked around my desk, one hand turning my chair so she could stand between my knees. I looked up at her, helpless, feeling more vulnerable than I had in my entire life.

Because I wanted a future with her.

Her fingertips grazed the arch of my cheekbone, gently enough that it hurt.

“I’m pretty stubborn,” she said quietly. “And I’m very sure of this; of you.”

Without any order from me, my hands drifted up along the outsides of her thighs, my palms coming to rest on her hips.

An odd ache writhed in my chest; longing and terror, yearning and hesitation.

“So,” she prompted,” her voice so much softer. “Can we give this a shot?”

The fire burning behind her eyes left me speechless. I nodded, my fingers flexing in the softness of her denim.

Joy broke across her face like a fucking sunrise, her smile holding the warmth of daybreak, her fingers weightless on my skin. She tilted my face up, leaning down until less than an inch separated her lips from mine, and I was breathless.

She paused there, her eyes on mine as if she could hear the frantic drum of my heart.

Without hesitation, without a single ‘what if’ or ‘maybe we shouldn’t’, I closed the gap and pressed her lips to mine.

And in that simple touch, warm and impossibly soft, every emotion I’d fought came barreling down until I tasted the tang of my own tears. She hummed into the kiss, her palms holding my face as if I might break, but her hands shook as much as mine did. I slipped into the sweetness of it, let myself float in the safety of her hold, my mind quiet for the first time in years.

It was bliss.

Frankie pulled away too quickly, but I silenced my complaints, blinking blearily up at her.

Her cheeks glowed rose pink, her eyes shimmering. “Don’t cry,” she whispered, her thumbs wiping away the tears slipping down my cheeks.

I sniffled, looking for the embarrassment of crying in front of someone else but finding nothing.

“Sorry,” I breathed, unable to tear my gaze away from the serenity in her eyes. “I haven’t felt this much in forever. I’ll be a little rusty.”

She kissed my forehead, and on instinct my eyes closed, savoring the sweet gesture.

“You’ll get used to it- oh, hold on.”

She frowned, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “It’s my dad,” she said, sliding her finger across the screen to answer. I looped my hands around the backs of her knees, thumbs caressing her thighs. “Hi, Dad, what’s up?”

A rushed garble echoed from her phone, and her brows pulled together. “Wait, slow down,” she said, panic edging her voice. “What did you say?”

Another warbled reply and Frankie’s knees went limp in my hold. “I’ll be right there.”

She hung up, her hands shaking violently.

“Frankie? What happened?”