the boat every night now, and every night, the arrival of the second man had me waking up in a cold sweat.
What if something really dark had happened? What if I were better off not knowing? Even if it weren’t as traumatic as I feared, once I knew the truth, I’d have to go back to my old life, whatever it was. What if I hated it?
I didn’t know who I’d been, but here with Holden, I knew who I was becoming. And I liked the person I was here. Sure, I might be a little obnoxious, a little pushy, but if Holden and I could set each other off so easily, that meant that we cared about each other, didn’t it? Or else we wouldn’t bother.
Holden got me. This version of me, anyway. When I was around him, I felt seen, and I felt safe. Even if he didn’t want me the way I wanted him, I knew I could trust him. But what if he didn’t like the me I’d been in the past?
I walked through the house slowly on my way up to bed that night, looking carefully at the carved wall panels, the polished bannisters, the tattered old tapestries, pressing them into my mind like a scrapbook, for safekeeping.
A hiss in the darkness at the top of the stairs gave me half a second’s warning that I was about to step on Frog. I lurched out of the way, landing in an awkward half-split as I stepped wide to avoid him. How many hours had it been since I’d promised the doctor I’d be more careful?
I looked down at Frog, his eyes glowing an orangey gold in the dark.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I asked him.
He purred in response.
“Maybe I should take that as a yes.”
I supposed that would be one benefit of going back to my old life. Presumably, I’d have fewer murderous felines to contend with. But as Frog stood, stretched himself out, and sauntered down the hall, I realized I’d miss him too.
I set off after Frog, then stopped a few feet later.
For the first time that I could remember, the door to Holden’s room was open.
I’d only caught glimpses of the inside in passing before, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help peering in now. It was like all the energy I’d pent up, restraining myself from googling Holden, needed to go somewhere.
The room was dark, save for a small, golden lamp glowing on a table on the left side of his bed. There was a green hardcover book lying on the edge of the table, spine hanging down as half of it dangled over the side. The covers of the bed were wrinkled but not messy—like someone had sat on them, rather than gotten underneath.
At the far end of the room, a set of French doors led out to what looked like a balcony. And out there, under the night sky, stood Holden.
I watched him, scarcely daring to breathe. Holden was facing away from me, out towards the cliffs and the ocean beyond. It had begun to snow, like someone was dusting powdered sugar over the earth. Flakes fluttered down and landed on Holden’s head and back, but he didn’t seem to notice.
After a few minutes, I started to get worried, and when Frog reappeared at my feet and slunk into the room, I followed him.
Without thinking about what I was doing, I grabbed the blanket off Holden’s bed. Holding it high so that Frog couldn’t catch it with his claws as I passed, I crossed to the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony.
It was cold. Not bitterly so, but not the kind of weather I wanted to spend too much time in without a jacket. Not after my experience in the storm last week. My breath misted in front of my face as I crossed the stones underfoot.
Holden turned around when I was just a couple feet from him, and I stopped, bracing for him to tell me to leave. I prepared my response mentally. I’d just hand him the blanket and say I was returning the favor, that I didn’t want him to die of exposure.
But he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me with eyes so full and sad that they froze me to the spot.
Then he turned, looking back out over the edge of the stone balustrade. I took that as the closest thing I was