Page 60 of In Flight

“I’m sorry for the breakdown,” I say hoarsely after a few minutes of silence.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sorry you got hurt. You’re the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met. With the softest heart. Anyone else would have snapped and let your mom have it years ago.”

“Maybe.”

“No maybe about it.”

“Okay.”

“So no beating yourself up about it.”

“Okay.”

“No feeling guilty.”

“I said okay.”

He huffs with gentle laughter. “Now you’re sounding more like yourself.”

“Am I?”

He tilts his head down to nuzzle my hair. “Yes, you are.”

“Sorry I woke you up in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t mind. I’m glad you called me. I wouldn’t have been happy at all to discover you were upset and tried to deal with it by yourself. Or worse, turned to someone other than me.”

I giggle for the first time all evening. Turn my head to peer up at his face. “Who else would I turn to?”

“I don’t know. But I’m imagining all kinds of other threats lurking at the perimeters and trying to hijack my job.”

“Your job?”

He leans forward to kiss me. “To take care of you.”

I don’t know what to say to that. The words cover me like a heavy blanket. Both the warmth and the weight.

Soon after that, we get into bed and go to sleep together.

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