Page 114 of Audiophile

Petra frowns, stroking my jaw. Each touch settles me back into the present. “What is it?”

“I should back out of the house.”

Petra hums, stroking my hand. “Take your time deciding that. You love that house. If you don’t want to live there, then don’t. But I don’t want Kinley to take any more joy from you. If you still want it, we could have a priest bless it? Father Bobby would do it. He’s close with the family.”

The suggestion is so far out of left field that it’s practically outer space. “I thought you weren’t talking to God?”

“We’re back on speaking terms,” she says, linking our fingers together. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.”

“I loved dancing in the kitchen with you.” I wish we could turn back the clock to yesterday afternoon, surrounded by sun and laughter. “As much as I loved christening that bedroom. Would you hate it there now?”

“My favorite part of that house is you.” Her beautiful, soft, Bambi eyes meet mine. She smiles, and it disperses some of the gloom. “We can always cleanse it our own way, you know? Make out on everysurface we can?”

I don’t know what I did to deserve her, or how I found her when I wasn’t looking, but I’m incredibly lucky that this woman is in my corner. “Maybe let’s lay some holy water down first, then cleanse it our way,” I compromise. “Just to be safe.”

She lets out a quiet laugh that speaks to her own exhaustion. “That’s a good plan.”

There are dark circles under her eyes that I trace with my thumb, and flashes from this morning hit me in a fresh punch to the gut. “I want all new furniture. Dishes. Art. Everything. I want to start over with you, Pet. Will you pick them out with me?”

“Of course I will. What else do you need? Has someone called your siblings? Your mom?”

“The hospital did. Grant is already on a plane.” I’m as surprised by that as anyone. “Everyone else is flying in tomorrow, and I should be discharged before then. The bullet only got the edge of my thigh. Nine stitches, though, and a lot of blood.”

She covers her face with her hand, but it doesn’t disguise the sob that escapes. I tuck her tightly to my chest, and her tears slide, wet and cool, down my neck. “We’re so lucky.”

“You’re the only woman in the world who would call us lucky.” My wry laugh belies the terror still racing through me. I let go of my steadfast control, allowing our complicated emotions to pour out between us. “You saved my life today.”

“And you saved mine a month ago, Reed. I wasn’t living when you walked into Mulberry’s.”

“What if I want to spend the rest of ours together? What if I want to build not just a home, but a life and a family with you? Not…” I lift her chin, searching her gaze. “I know this isn’t the right time. I don’t have a ring, and emotions are high, but this isn’t adrenaline. I always knew I’d ask you sooner or later, but I’m not waiting. I’m in this, Pet. I want to love you, in joy and grief, for as long as you’ll let me.”

“For as long as you’ll let me,” she promises.

Her hands dive into my hair as I catch her mouth for my own. I press the softest kisses there, careful not to hurt her, wishing I could cover her with them and heal every inch of her.

“My parents bribed the church because they wanted Silla and Josie to get married with a full, Catholic Mass,” she blurts when we break apart. Her eyes widen, and she presses her lips together so tightly that they turn white. “I don’t know why I said that.”

The clouds shift outside the window, and a ray of golden, afternoon light breaks through the clouds, brightening the room. It brings color to her lips and darkens the freckles peeking out across her collar. Her cheeks flush a deeper pink, and brush the warm skin with my thumb.Day one, accomplished.I smile. “Yeah, but I do.”

Epilogue

Reed Diamante

DECEMBER, THE FOLLOWING YEAR

Petra’s laugh echoes throughthe kitchen as she, Amanda, and Livi hover around the stove. They get along as if they’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Whenever Amanda flies out, it warms my heart to see them all together. I smile at Petra over the mass of people crammed into our home.

This house was meant to be overstuffed, and the joy of having both our families here for Christmas makes up for the lack of space. It’s odd to have everyone together, since I see Pet’s family more consistently than my own, but we settle into old connections like they’ve never been broken. That’s what it was like with Pet, the day we met. As if we’d been connected all along and simply forgot.

Our place on Rosewood Court is nearly unrecognizable. Holy water, fresh paint, new furniture, new memories—all of it made this house our home. The illustrations from Petra’s book are a point of pride from where they hang in the living room.

My eyes catch hers, and she gives me a slow, secret smile. My fingers tap restlessly against my glass, searching for an outlet for all my anxious energy. The reality is, there’s no outlet until Petra says there is. We came into the night with two plans, but ultimately it’s her call, and I’ll follow her lead.

I make the rounds, laughing with Mom, hugging Anita, stealing Hailey from Darin to swing her around until she laughs. She runs to Janie, and they tear through the house, shrieking with laughter. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Darling Petra,” I greet as I sidle up to her and wrap an arm around her waist. She’s soft and warm, and her brown and green eyes swallow me whole. She blooms more vibrantly each day, especially now. I trace the length of her spine, and heat ignites in her gaze. I wish I had time to pull her into our room for a few minutes. From her expression, she does, too. She’s been insatiable lately, and I’m more than happy to climb aboard that ship.

“How are you doing?” I ask, pushing my need for her aside. “Should you take a break? I can finish dinner.”

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