“Are you saying you like my body, Mister Lynch?”
“Among other things, yes. I do. And I’m not ashamed to admit that.”
Giggling, I accept the glass of wine the server hands me, apologizing for not having looked at the menu. The woman smiles brightly and tells us she’ll give us a minute. Silence descends upon the table as both Holden and I examine the restaurant’s offerings.
Over the course of the meal, the sun lowers, bathes him in a gorgeous gold as it heralds in a twilight that twinkles and shimmers with the stars that appear in the sky. I tell Holden stories of my childhood and my family. The time I accidentally started a fire in Home Ec while trying to bake a cake. He shakes his head when my voice cracks on the tales about Katie. The familiar anger and disappointment well up inside, and I accept his silent reassurance that I don’t have to talk about it. I don’t have to spill a single detail if I don’t want to.
I don’t want to, so I no longer do. I ask about his own life.
There’s something peaceful about being here, drinking wine and enjoying a nice meal, soaking in Holden’s presence as night settles in, that I don’t want to let go of. I can’t remember ever being so relaxed with someone else that wasn’t Tristan or Luci. Holden’s easygoing nature and quick-to-come slow smiles are enough to ease any nerves I had.
After dinner comes lying on a blanket in the park under the stars. I hold Holden’s hand as we stare at the sky, my giggles breaking the silence more with each ridiculous name he gives clusters of stars. The temperature has dropped, bringing with it a cooler wind that leaves goosebumps on my skin, but—
“I kinda don’t wanna leave,” I admit softly without looking at Holden. I couldn’t bear any judgment.
“I don’t want to, either,” he replies; I let out a slow breath, tension bleeding away. He continues, “But we have a child who needs us.”
We have a child. I swallow, a harsh thing that tears at my throat, but don’t say anything. I instead let him help me to my feet, and we work together to fold the blanket. Holden tucks it under his arm, and we walk hand-in-hand back to the car. As I buckle my seatbelt, I wonder when we can do this again.
Phil answers the door, takes one look at us, then shuts the door in our faces. I frown and knock again. This time, Phil says something.
“No. Go away.”
“You—you can’t just keep Ashton from us,” I protest.
“Yes, I can. Now shoo, go. I’m kidnapping the kid until tomorrow, so go enjoy a night of, uh, ‘adult activities’ without risk of interruption.”
Phil winks before closing the door. The scrape of the lock sounds so final. My jaw hangs open, my hand rising to knock once more, but Holden’s chuckle stops me. I turn to him.
“He’s—”
“Giving us a chance to spend a night doing whatever we want. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops to a low murmur, sending a shiver up my spine, and his lips brush against my ear when he speaks: “I have so many things I want to do to you.”
And who am I to argue withthat?
Apologies Too Late
Unfortunately,Holdenisgoneby the time I wake in the morning. I stare sleepily at the empty half of the bed; something gnaws away deep inside of me, a sharp, acidic little thing with jagged little teeth. My hand brushes over the cool sheets, and I let myself dwell on the longing—the missing him—for a moment before rolling onto my back. The ceiling stares back, a blank expanse of white that does little to ease the ache.
I have to order myself to go through the morning routine, step-by-step, until I stand on the sidewalk outside of Tiny Tots Nursery. Ashton goes willingly into the room with Annie, and I head to the opposite side of the building in a daze. It’s an unfamiliar situation I’ve found myself in, missing someone this much, someone who isn’t Ashton or my parents.
Everything about my relationship with Holden has been unfamiliar, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Holden comes home after a week full of video calls and text messages andGazed at the stars and thought of yous andCan’t wait to be home with you and Ashton agains. He gives no warning for his arrival: I find out when I pull into the garage after work and see his car where it belongs. I rush through getting Ashton unbuckled from his seat then usher him into the house.
The smell of food cooking hits me in the face as soon as I cross the threshold, and I instinctively breathe in as I help Ashton remove his shoes and jacket. He scurries farther into the house as soon as his shoes are on the rack; his shriek sounds only a moment later. A familiar laugh follows, and I make my way to the kitchen to see my boyfriend holding Ashton to his chest. Holden meets my gaze and kisses Ashton’s hair before lowering him to the floor.
“Okay, bud, I gotta cook, and the oven’s too hot and dangerous for you to be around. So go play, alright?”
Ashton nods and vanishes into the other room. I grin at the sound of plastic blocks clattering onto the floor, then I turn to Holden. He reaches for me, and I go willingly. God, will I always go to him without hesitation. The kiss leaves me breathless, my head spinning with the relief that he’s here. He’s home. He doesn’t release me even as he picks up a spoon to stir the creamy sauce in the pan.
Resting my head on his shoulder, I close my eyes and wish for this moment to stretch into forever.
The announcements overhead are garbled, indecipherable, but the board is clear enough. I chew on my lower lip, arms wrapped around my middle, and let my gaze scan over the faces emerging from the tunnel. My stomach lurches with each flash of tanned skin and blond hair. None of them are right, though, so I keep watching. Keep waiting.
“Oh, my god, I’ve missed you!”
I turn at the loud voice, grinning widely when Luci drops her bag to the floor. We rush toward each other, meet in the middle for an embrace that threatens to crush my spine, and sway together. Tristan plasters himself along my back, and I blink against the heat in my eyes. The earthy cologne and spiced floral perfume are the same as before, well-known and so missed.
