Page 72 of To Catch a Firefly

“I’ll call.”

I know.

“Every day, if I can.”

“Luck,” I say gently.

He eases out a breath. “I’m going to miss you, Ellis. I always do, but now…”

Yeah. Now, it’s going to hurt more.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He kisses me hard for just a second before sitting up and tossing away our covers. It’s still dark out, no light coming through the window. Lucky’s bag is already packed, sitting beside the door.

We’re quiet as we make our way outside. My mom is sleeping, but Lucky’s parents are up, waiting for us in front of their house. Lucky heads that way, giving his mom and dad a hug and exchanging soft words I don’t hear. Mr. Buchanan ruffles Lucky’s hair, and then Lucky comes back over to me. He doesn’t say anything—just looks up at me with those light blue eyes.

Sky blue? Robin’s egg? I still don’t know.

When Lucky wraps his arms around me, it’s not a surprise. I welcome the hug, returning it, even as my insides roll. Hisface burrows against my chest for a moment before he steps back abruptly. Without a word, he turns, and I watch him go, wondering how it’s possible to ache so badly for something that’s right in front of me.

He’s halfway to his car when he spins, striding back over to me with purpose. He doesn’t stop until he’s an inch in front of me, his palms landing on my cheeks.

“I promise I’ll be back soon,” he says, voice firm. “It’s me and you, right, El?”

I nod against his grasp.Always.

He kisses me then. It’s an oath, just as binding as his words, and I tuck it inside of me where I know it will keep me warm. He doesn’t pull away as quickly this time. When he leans back, he looks at me for the longest moment, his face so close I can see the specks of color that make up his irises, even in the dim light. There are too many shades. Maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to pinpoint it.

“Soon,” he repeats.

I nod, and he lets go.

Lucky doesn’t stop this time as he heads to his car. He gets inside, shuts the door, and backs slowly down the driveway. It feels as if there’s a hook in my chest, pulling tight as his car disappears down the road. I rub the spot, watching dust kick up from his tires.

“Do you know why we named him Lucky?” Mrs. Buchanan asks, stepping onto the grass beside me. The screen door shuts as Mr. Buchanan heads inside.

I shake my head.

“Five is my lucky number,” she says. “I was born on the fifth of February, met Ron the fifth of December, and we got married on the fifth of March.”

A few birds sing as the sun starts to crest the skyline, sending a gentle pink glow into the dusky dawn. I can’t see Lucky’s car anymore.

“I was pregnant four times before Lucky came along,” Mrs. Buchanan says. “He was number five, and I knew, the moment I held him in my arms, he was our Lucky. Our miracle child.”

I look her way, not sure how to respond. I had no idea.

Mrs. Buchanan doesn’t seem to expect me to say anything. She goes on, rubbing her hands up and down the sleeves of her sweater. “I know it’s hard seeing him go. But Lucky is a fighter. Always has been. He’ll come back, Ellis. He knows you’re worth fighting for.”

Lucky’s mom gives me a soft smile, squeezes my arm, and turns away. I stay a while longer, watching the empty road in front of our houses.

It’s still early when I head inside, so I’m not surprised my mom isn’t awake yet. Marcus gently insisted I take the remainder of the week off, so I make some eggs and toast before settling at the kitchen table with my laptop, in no hurry to be anywhere else.

My fingers start typing before long, the process a familiar comfort by now.

Hey, Luck. I can’t help but wonder if I’m dreaming. It feels that way. Less than an hour ago, you were in my bed, so warm and soft tucked between me and the sheets. I’ve dreamed of you there so many times, I’m not convinced it wasn’t another fantasy I spun inside my head. Except… You were here, I know that. You came for me. You came, and you kissed me, and now nothing is going to be the same.

I didn’t know you felt it. Maybe I should have. I know you so well; it feels like I should have known this, too. But I’m fallible. And I didn’t see how it could possibly work. I don’thave wings, Luck, not like you. I’m afraid of holding you back. But you told me we’ll be okay, that we’ll figure it out, and I believe you.

I believe you.

---