I snort out a laugh. “I miss you guys so much.”
“We miss you too, Ames. You know we’re only a plane ride away, and I have access to a private jet. Just say the word andI’ll have it gassed up and at Hanscom Fieldbefore you’ve even had time to pack a bag. And bring Elliot with you. It’ll be the first time I get to flex my fatherly,you better not make my baby girl crymuscles.”
“How about I bring him, and you don’t do anything like that? He’s, like, two years younger than you and his brother is one of your best friends. Don’t be a weirdo.”
Gabe heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. How about you just come home and hang for a few days and bring your boyfriend, who I will act totally and completely normal around.”
“Sounds perfect, Gabey.”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“I know,” I sing. “I love you both. Thanks for the talk.”
“Love you, Ames,” Gabe and Molly say at the exact same time, and we all crack up.
The laughter wakes up Killer, who looks around like she’s trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. When I hang up with my brother, I feel a million times lighter. Killer jumps up into my lap, and I stroke her soft fur as I glance around Elliot’s apartment. At the plant I brought him that’s slowly coming back to life. The shelf of mugs he’s collecting just for me. My shoes next to his and my jacket in the closet and the odds and ends I’ve left here over the past few months.
This is my place. Our place.
The thought has a bubble of happiness expanding in my chest.
An idea pops into my head, and I open my phone, typing out a few texts before depositing Killer on the couch, heading back into Elliot’s room. He might not like what I have planned, but I think it’s what he needs. He may need a minute, but I’m pretty confident he’ll see things my way.
When I open the door to the bedroom, the afternoon sun is shining behind the closed blinds, and Elliot is still fast asleep.Pulling back the covers, I slide in behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and splaying my hand over his heart, feeling its strong, steady beat.
“Mystery Girl,” he mumbles sleepily, covering my hand with his. “Missed you. It doesn’t feel as dark when you’re here with me.”
“Go back to sleep, El,” I murmur, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “I’ve got you.”
“My girl,” he mutters, tightening his hand around mine and drifting back to sleep.
“My guy,” I whisper, a smile on my face as I drop into sleep, keeping my body wrapped around his to shield him from the darkness.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
ELLIOT
Muffled laughter and the smell of coffee pull me gently from sleep, and I peel open my eyes to my still-dim bedroom. A glance at the clock on my nightstand tells me it’s just after nine, and there’s light filtering in the side of my blinds, which means I’ve been asleep for almost twenty-four hours. That’s how it goes sometimes when I go dark. Like my brain is trying to protect itself in the only way it can.
I’m alone in bed, but there’s a glass of water on my nightstand next to a Post-it with the initials AS + EW scrawled inside a pink heart. My heart squeezes at the gesture, and at the memory of the way Amelia cared for me yesterday. The way she never let go of me. The feel of her arms around me every time I surfaced from my deep-depression sleep made me feel safe enough to go back under, knowing she was there. I’ve never had someone take care of me the way she did, and I didn’t think it was possible, but I fall just a little harder, as if there is no bottom to my feelings for her.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I take stock. As the unmistakable sound of Amelia’s laughter drifts through my closed bedroom door, I realize I feel lighter than I ever have before after waking up from a depressive episode. Clearer. Unburdened, almost.
I stand and walk to the bathroom, stretching out my stiff muscles as I stick my toothbrush in my mouth and flip on the shower. When it’s hot, I duck under the spray, taking the fastest shower of my life, wanting to find my girl and get my arms around her as soon as possible.
When I walk out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist, Amelia is sitting on my bed, coffee mug in hand and a smile on her face.
“Hot damn, you look good in a towel,” she says by way of greeting. She stands, setting the mug on my nightstand and reaching up to push my damp hair off my forehead, then leaning in and brushing her lips against mine. I wind my free arm around her waist and keep her close, taking her mouth in a deeper, more satisfying kiss.
When we break apart, she studies me and nods, like she approves of what she sees. “You look better.”
I smile, leaning in to kiss her neck. “I feel better. A little shaky still, but definitely better. Thank you,” I say quietly, clearing my throat against the sudden onslaught of emotion. “For taking care of me. Being with me all night. For not leaving.”
Amelia cups my face in both of her hands, eyes steady on mine. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I love you means I love every damn part of you. Including this one.”
I take a deep breath, and when I exhale, it feels like I’m letting go of a weight that’s been sitting on my shoulders since I was a college student lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, wondering why my brain was betraying me. “I love you too.Those words don’t feel like enough to explain how I feel about you, but it’s all I’ve got.”
She smiles, brushing her fingers down my jaw. “It’s perfect. Although, hold onto that feeling because I have something to tell you, and I’m not sure if you’re going to like it.”
