Page 164 of Meet Me In The Dark

When I finally finish, Celeste’s eyes are glistening. I reach out and wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Don’t cry for me.” I smooth my thumb across her skin. “I turned out just fine.”

She leans into my touch. “You turned out more than fine.”

“Come on.” I lace my fingers through hers and pull her to her feet.

We take our time on our walk back to her apartment as I fill in the remaining years. I talk about starting the company, about running from meaningful relationships, building walls instead of bridges.

She nudges me lightly at that admission, a playful reprimand, but her hand stays tight in mine. It’s like asilent promise that she understands more than I ever expected.

I even tell her about the phone call, how my mother’s death shook me to my core, and instead of facing it, I hit the bottle.

The sky is lifting by the time we turn onto her street.

“I wish I could have been there,” she says, thumb brushing my wrist. “At the funeral.”

I bring her knuckles to my mouth and press a kiss to the back of her hand. It’s the only answer that doesn’t split me open on the sidewalk.

“How about your sisters?” she asks after a beat. “You said they wanted a relationship with you. Do you want one with them?”

“Catriona looks like her,” I say, because it’s been crowding my throat since the call. “Same mouth. Same eyes. She’s about the age my mother was when she signed the papers. Seeing her brought back more than seeing the woman in the bed ever did.” I shake my head. “It shouldn’t be her burden. I don’t want to use them to fix something they didn’t break. Maybe coffee. Not today. When I can look at them and not see someone else.”

She nods in understanding.

“Did you get to say goodbye?” she asks.

“I said the words she needed.”

“And if you could have said something for you?”

“I would have asked why she brought me there twice before the day she left me. Why did she hold my hand that last time when she never did before?” The sun edges a line along the tops of cars. “I would have told her I’m not the little kid she quit. I’m a man with a life she didn’t build.”

She squeezes my hand like a seal on that. “Onemore question?”

“You’ll have more.”

“Most likely, but they can wait.”

“Okay.”

“What would help right now?”

“You. Just you. You’re what’s helping right now.” I shift our joined hands to my chest. “And if my head starts lying to me again, use that bossy voice. It was sexy.”

She presses her face into my shoulder and laughs.

When we reach her apartment, I realize I’ve likely made her late for work, but when I say as much, she shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

I grab my gear bag and a spare suit from my car and take a shower in her apartment. Standing beneath the hot spray with my palms pressed against the cool tile, my head drops between my shoulders.

A touch on my back startles me, and I open my eyes to see Celeste stepping in. She slips beneath my arm and presses her back against the wall.

She looks at me like she can see every scar, every fracture, and doesn’t want to fix a single one.

“Hi,” she whispers.

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. “Hi, baby.”