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35

JULIET

Romeo

Missing you, sweet girl

Juliet

Miss you, too. How are things going? Did your boss’s wife have her baby?

Romeo

Yeah, earlier today. I’m just leaving the hospital now.

Juliet

That’s nice you went to see them.

Romeo

I still have work shit to do tonight to cover for my boss, but I’m free tomorrow evening.

Juliet

Oh shoot. I have plans.

Romeo’s responding text came in lightning fast, and I grinned.

Romeo

What fucking plans?

Juliet

It’s a very important Mario Kart tournament

Romeo

Juliet.

Juliet

Romeo.

Romeo

Brat. I’ll come over at seven with dinner.

Juliet

So bossy

It was a good thing the bookstore was quiet this evening because I couldn’t stop smiling at my phone like a fool. The morning after Christmas, I’d woken up with Romeo plastered to my side. My bed was tiny, so that was pretty much the only way for us to sleep without one of us falling off, but his arms and legs had been wrapped around me, holding tight. We’d had sex again and Romeo hadn’t stopped until I’d come three times.

We’d both been reluctant to part, but Romeo had told me he was picking up extra work because his boss’s wife was about to have a baby. Since leaving that morning, though, he’d texted me consistently during the day and we’d been talking on the phone again most nights.

It was hard for me to accept that things in my life were… good . Better than good. My fingers automatically navigated to my banking app for the millionth time just to look at the balance. $10,583. My heart pounded every time I saw the number. It was more money than I’d ever had, more money than I could ever have dreamed of having, after a ten thousand dollar grant had been deposited into my account. When I’d gotten the letter from the Administration for Children’s Services before Christmas, I was sure it was a scam. But then the money had hit my bank account. The letter said some benefactor had donated money to go directly to kids who had aged out of the system. I didn’t understand why I had been chosen or how they even had my banking information. I kept expecting to get another letter telling me it had been a mistake and they were taking the money back, but every time I checked my account, it was still there.

As I closed down the bookstore for the night, I fantasized about what I could use the money for. A nicer apartment?

Piles of books?

A larger bed—one that Romeo and I could fit in easily?

I shut down the train of thought fast. Romeo hadn’t made me any promises about our relationship. Maybe it was because I was so desperate for any kind of affection that I hadn’t asked him what this was, what we were. I hadn’t pushed for more, hadn’t asked if he was sleeping with other women or if he’d come over on Christmas because he was bored and had nothing else to do. Because if I asked and he told me this was just casual for him, I didn’t think my heart could take it.

Stop being a coward. You’ve lived through worse than being rejected by a guy.

While that was true, being with Romeo was the first time I’d felt truly alive in the past two years. If he left, would I be able to stop myself from returning to the darkness?