“I mean . . . that’s understandable. I’ve had eleven years to process it, you’ve had just a moment. I want you to know—it’s okay if you have some hurt here.” I rub my hand over his breastbone. “I know it’s not going to be this immediate clearing of the air.”
He takes a few seconds before replying, and when he does, his voice is hoarse. “Losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I still feel the echo of that—those were really hard years—but it helps, knowing. As terrible as it is, it helps to know.” He looks at me, and his eyes fill again. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when Duncan died.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I just vanished.” I kiss his shoulder.
He reaches up with his free hand, wiping a palm down his face. “Honey, you lost your mom at ten, and your dad at eighteen. It sucks that you disappeared, but it’s not like I don’t get it. Holy shit, your life just . . . crumbled that day.”
I move my hand under his shirt, up over his stomach, coming to rest above his heart. “It was terrible.” I press my face to where his neck meets shoulder, trying to push away those memories and inhaling the familiar smell of him. “What were those years like for you?”
He hums, thinking. “I focused on school. If you mean romantically, I had so much guilt that I didn’t really get involved with anyone until later.”
My heart aches at this. “Alex said you didn’t bring anyone home until Rachel.”
“Can we be clear about one thing?” he says, kissing my hair. “Definitively, and without question?”
“What’s that?” I love the solid feel of him next to me. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
“That I love you,” he whispers, tilting my chin so I’ll look up at him. “Okay?”
“I love you, too.” Emotion fills my chest, making my words come out strangled. I will always miss my parents, but I have Elliot back. Together we were able to resurrect something.
His lips press to my forehead. “Do you think we can do this?” he asks, keeping his lips there. “Do we get our chance now to be together together?”
“We’ve certainly earned it.”
He pulls back, looking at me. “I’ve just been lying here, thinking. In some ways, I should have figured it out. I should have wondered why Duncan never came back. I just assumed you were both so angry at me.”
“Over time I let myself trust my memories more.” I reach up, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I realized whether or not you had something casual and consistent with Emma, you did really love me.”
“Of course I did.” He stares, eyes tight. “I hate that Duncan died thinking otherwise.”
There’s not really anything I can say to this. I just squeeze him tighter, pressing my lips to the pulse point beneath his jaw.
“I still love this room,” I whisper.
Beside me, Elliot goes still. “It’s funny you say that . . . I love it, too. But I came in here to say goodbye.”
My heart peeks over the cliff, falling off. “What does that mean?”
He pushes up on an elbow, looking down at me. “It means I don’t think we belong in here anymore.”
“Well, no, we won’t be in here all the time. But why not keep the cabin, and—”
“I mean, look, obviously it’s yours, and you should do with it what you want.” He runs his fingertip below my lip and bends, kissing me once. When he pulls away, I chase his mouth, wanting more. “But I want us to move past this closet,” he says gently. “The closet isn’t why we fell in love. We made this room special, not the other way around.”
I know my expression looks devastated, and I don’t know how to reel it back in. I love being in here with him. The best years of my life were in here, and I’ve never felt safer than I do in the closet.
And that’s when I know Elliot is already two steps ahead of me.
“I bet, the way you see it, everything fell apart when we tried to live outside,” he says, and leans down, kissing me again. “But that’s just shitty luck. It isn’t going to be that way this time.”
“No?” I ask, biting back a relieved smile and tugging at his shoulders so he hovers over me.
“No.” He grins, settling between my legs, his eyes going a