Page 31 of Sin of the Season

“Now you’ve got a portable me for when we can’t be together. Imagine it’s me holding you.”

He’s silent when he opens the smaller box. Then he goes completely still.

A single key lies inside on a leather fob.

He looks up, confused. “I don’t understand, Miggy.” Pulling the key out and looking it over, then his eyes drift up to mine.

I swallow, suddenly nervous in a way I haven’t been in years. “It’s a key to my condo.”

He blinks. “Why?”

“Because,” I say quietly, “my home is your home, baby. I want you to always have a way to come back. Even if I’m not there.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward, it’s heavy in the best way, thick with meaning.

Caleb stares at the key for another heartbeat, then crawls across the rug and into my lap. His hands slide around my neck, his forehead pressing to mine.

“Fuck, Miggy,” he whispers, voice cracking just enough to hit me straight in the chest. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. “That’s not the goal.”

He shakes his head, laughing through it. “I don’t think you understand what you’ve given to me… the past month and a half...”

I lean in and kiss him, soft and slow. “I think I do.”

We stay like that for a long time. Music humming low, his heartbeat pressed to mine, lost in our own little world where nothing else matters but us.

It’squiet.

It’swarm.

It’s us.

Right now, it doesn’t feel like a world where we’re fighting to survive—it feels like something we finally get to live in.

Together.