Page 62 of Restoration

“Because I was afraid you were going to die!” The words come out so abruptly that I blink in surprise.

Edmund frowns.

I’m annoyed now at his obliviousness. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”

“Do what? Climb a tree? I told you I didn’t want to do it again, so that’s why I wanted to make sure we had enough branches.”

“I don’t just mean the tree. I mean doing something dangerous. Risking your life. And not listening to me when I’m telling you something important.”

“I was listening,” he says softly, still looking faintly confused. “I just had to concentrate on what I was doing. I don’t think my life was in danger.”

“Well, it looked like it was from the ground. And I was... I was really scared.” I sniff and wipe at my face again. “Did it ever once occur to you how I would feel if something happened to you?”

He’s quiet for a long time, staring at a blank spot in the air beyond my head. Then, finally, he murmurs thickly, “Yes. It’s occurred to me. Because I know exactly how I would feel if something happened to you.”

I gurgle but manage not to burst into more tears. “So you see? That’s how I’d feel too. So don’t you ever do that to me again.”

With a guttural sound, he pulls me into a hug, and we kind of collapse so we’re holding each other stretched out on the patio. “I’m sorry, baby. I really am. I’m sorry I scared you. I still don’t think I was really in danger, but I can see that you thought I was.”

“I did.” I squeeze him hard. “I can’t make it without you, Edmund. I just... I can’t.”

“I know. Me either.” He sucks in a long, raspy breath. “I’ve actually thought about it. While you were so sick last week and every day afterward. I’ve thought about what I’ll do if anything happens to you.”

“What will you do?” I’m needy and shaky and genuinely curious.

“I have that knife,” he mutters, his face buried against the crook of my neck. “I would use it.”

“Edmund!”

“I would. I’m not living here alone without you.”

I’ve never heard that particular tone of voice from him before, and it touches something deep inside me.

It makes me admit the truth. “I might do the same. But that’s why we both need to be careful. We can’t leave each other in that position.”

“No. We can’t.” He finds my mouth and kisses me. “I’ll be careful, baby. I promise. We’re in this together, and it’s going to stay that way.”

His reassurances and the tightness of his embrace eventually make me feel better.

“We can make that kite now. Maybe it will work. Maybe someone will see it and come rescue us.”

“Maybe,” he mumbles. He kisses me again.

He’s always been the optimistic one. The one who believes that the world will eventually work out in our favor.

But I don’t think he believes we’ll ever be rescued anymore.

This is our life now. Just the two of us. For however many years we have remaining.

At least we have each other.

At least I’m with someone I love.

***

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOONwe get the kite in the air.

It’s as easy as anything to catch the wind with it. It happens so quickly that the sharp pull makes me jump and stumble backward. Edmund has hold of the long vine string we made, and he slowly lets it out as the kite climbs higher and higher.

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