Page 85 of Shadows of Justice

“You learned Spanish?” Leo asks me, a broad smile on his face. I shrug.

“Hospitals are boring,” I say, trying to hide my smile.

Leo and I watch Alejandro play his game for a moment in silence, the end of the boy’s tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. Doughnut sighs contentedly from where he lays against my leg, groaning as I pat his paunch.

I feel like I’m having another out-of-body experience. This house, these people . . . normally, I would feel uncomfortable in my own skin in a place like this, but their warmth, their love—I crave it. They’re not shiny and perfect or without baggage. They’re just beyond happy to be together, clinging to each other tight, because they know what it’s like to be without that love.

Without oxygen.

“Thank you for letting me meet him,” I tell Leo. “For showing me all of this. I needed it, more than you know.”

“Of course,” he says, tracing circles on my knee with his thumb.

“Pizza’s here!” Gloria says, and Alejandro hops up to follow her into the kitchen, yelling excitedly. Leo and I both rise.

“I should go,” I say. “I’ll let you guys have your evening.”

“Will you stay?” he asks, his dark eyes shy. “Or not,” he says quickly, when I don’t answer right away. “I would understand. I know this is a lot. Maybe you need space.”

I smile at him, “That’s just in movies, Leo. You either know you want this or you don’t.” I take his hand, and he threads our fingers together. “I’d love to stay.”

He grips my chin and raises it to look at me with the same intensity that made me question everything the first time I saw him. He kisses me softly, brushing my hair back, the tenderness bringing a whole new batch of tears to my eyes.

We both sit again, sounds of Gloria trying to wrangle an excited, hungry six-year-old filtering to us from the kitchen. I hear her tell him to “get our guest a drink,” and a moment later hear tiny feet running toward us again.

He reappears, four silver cans in a pile in his arms. He bounds up to me and hands me one. I look at the label.

“Root beer!” I say, catching a proud, sly wink from Leo over his shoulder. Alejandro nods enthusiastically.

“Have you ever had it?” he asks me. He cracks open his can, takes a long drink, and lets out a contended ahhh, making us all laugh. “It’s delicious.”

The End.

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