Until the World Stops - L.A. Witt Page 0,85

long—because Christ this pandemic had warped my sense of time—I finally felt like I wasn’t holding my breath or standing on a tightrope.

The virus had made it to my family, but my mom was going to make it through. So far, my dad and my brother were okay. There was so much still fucked up in the world, and God knew when this stupid pandemic and its ripple effects would end, but my family was, as much as they could be, okay.

Blowing out another breath, I sat up and looked around. I was still on the side of the road on my way home from work. It felt like I’d been someplace else for hours, though. Like my dull but irritating day at work had been months ago. Like I’d been anywhere but next to a highway in Maine for the past ten minutes or so. Was this that thing people felt after they’d been abducted by aliens? Where time and place stopped making sense and they couldn’t account for where they’d been or for how long?

Maybe. I hadn’t been abducted by aliens, though. I’d just had some long overdue good news drop out of the sky, and I still couldn’t quite fit it all into my head.

As I pulled back on the highway, I was relieved to the point of giddy.

And the minute I got home and saw Tristan, the news wanted to burst right out of me.

Except…

Goddammit.

One look at Tristan, and everything else came crashing back in. All the reasons this would be the first time we’d said more than two words to each other since he’d left my bed, and why my mom’s ordeal had been even harder to process because I’d had to deal with it alone.

I was still flying high over my mom’s recovery, but the disappointment that I couldn’t come running in and tell him… That was tough to swallow.

I scooped up Tilly like I always did, and I tried to laugh at her kneading the air as I carried her upstairs, but my heart wasn’t in it.

In the bedroom—my bedroom, since I didn’t share it with Tristan at all anymore—I put Tilly on the bed, and I sat down and petted her while she rolled around and purred. My heart still wasn’t in it, though. I just kept thinking about the man doing homework on the couch downstairs, and all the things I wished I could tell him.

Which…

Fuck. Why wasn’t I telling him? It was good news, regardless of how things were between us. And I didn’t want things to continue to be like that between us.

Because as I lounged here with Tilly, it occurred to me that after I’d hung up with my parents, I’d immediately wanted to come home and tell Tristan. Not call one of my buddies. Not post on Facebook. Not text MA2 Colby. Tristan. The guy who’d been there when I’d gotten the worst news. Who’d distracted me when the world had been yanked out from under my feet, and who’d kept me sane from the beginning of this stupid pandemic even while I’d been trying like hell to resent him.

I didn’t want to resent him anymore. I didn’t want things to be weird. I didn’t want us to be distant.

I wanted to go back. Damn it, I missed him. He was so close he was practically in the same room with me, but I missed him. God knew if there was any way to bridge the gap between us, especially with the reasons he’d given for putting the kibosh on things, but I had to try. I had to. I had to at least try to win back the man I’d wanted to tell first when I’d found out my mom was going to be okay.

So, with a deep breath, I got up. “Come on,” I said to Tilly. “Let’s go downstairs.”

She kneaded on the comforter, watching me with those big eyes and purring so loud I was surprised the neighbors couldn’t hear.

When I took a step toward the door, though, she thumped to the floor and charged down the stairs. I followed, but slower. I was nervous and—what could I say—a bit of a coward.

Tristan had moved into the kitchen and was refilling his drink.

“Hey,” I said.

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression registering nothing. “Hey.”

As I watched him putting away the soda bottle, I cleared my throat and slid my hands into my pockets. “My dad called. He and my brother both tested negative, and