"I won't be far behind you. I'm going to start packing within the minute you leave."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I ignored the movie on the basement television screen, too busy absorbing every detail that I could of Will. It would only be a few weeks of missing him. I could make it.
Even if I didn't want to.
Deprivation had never concerned me much. It did this time.
There are phones and the Internet. It'll be fine.
He might have been thinking the same thing or sensed how my heart was growing heavy because his arms pulled me in even tighter.
Footsteps moved down the hall. Unlike our first time alone in the basement, we didn't have to pray that we wouldn't be caught.
The door to the garage opened, and the sound of large boots on the floor overhead was distinct and out of place—considering it was well after midnight. A man's voice drifted down the stairs. I recognized it was Lawrence, but he and Rose were too quiet to make out any of their words. They went back and forth, their tones changing from irritated to vulnerable.
"There's no logic in the way I feel about you." His voice had notched a little louder, anger biting at every word. When he continued, he was too quiet again.
But his pain echoed in my head.
They must have been standing so close. Close enough to hold each other. It lasted for minutes.
Why can't they just be together?
I'd asked myself this question so many times over the years. Every time, I recalled all the steps that had brought them down this path. Even just the few fights I'd seen were full of words sharp enough to cut. They were never careful enough. Never kind enough.
Eventually, he left. One step after another was all it took, but the weight of him lingered. Rose remained, glued to her spot for a few moments after the door closed, before retreating to her bedroom.
When it was clear she was gone, Will said, "That seemed…depressing."
"I don't ever want to hurt like that." I used to think that I didn't want to ever love like that either, but I suspected it was too late for me now.
Will hooked a finger under my chin. His eyes held mine with a burning intensity. He was staring into the deepest parts of me and wasn't looking away.
"I just want to be good to you," he promised.
Lizzy
After Christmas
I'd be goddamned if Will didn't fill out a cable-knit sweater like a cozy Greek God. He was all sweet, yet masculine charm with a puppy sleeping in his palm, its head nuzzled on his shoulder. The humane society director, Patricia, had gotten the shots she wanted of Will and Rose. Then she left us to cuddle with the two puppies for as long as we wanted.
"Please, take your time," Patricia said as she waved goodbye. "They need the socialization."
"Well, if they need it," Rose joked.
At the door, Patricia paused. A rare hesitant expression fit onto her face. "It might not be my place to say, but I see how you two make better friends."
With a wink in my direction, she left, closing the door behind her.
Like always, my eyes found Will. He was their favorite thing. A crease pressed between his eyebrows. His lips tilted to one side.
"Did Patricia just give you two her blessing?" Rose asked.
I snorted. "I wasn't asking for it, but I'll take it."