“Why?”
Caspian seems to weigh his words before speaking. “Because I want to know it’s real when it happens. That I didn’t put words in your mouth.”
There goes my pulse again. “Did you forget you already named my unborn child?”
He huffs a laugh, a smile on his face as he looks down at Shelly. His cheeks are pink, and the sight of it—him, my cat, that blush—has me feeling fondly protective in a way I can’t easily dismiss.
He didn’t say it outright, but we’re together in that future he sees. Aren’t we? He’s there, at the very least. He’s still in my life. Far from now.
His lips twist ruefully as he meets my gaze. “You likely would have picked the name anyway. Because of your mom.”
That’s true. Penelope would be my first choice for a daughter.
I heave out a breath, rubbing the tops of my thighs and realizing I’m still in my sleepwear. “I’ll…be right back.”
When I get back downstairs, dressed for the day, Caspian is in the kitchen, looking through my fridge. “What do you normally eat for breakfast?”
“Let’s go out.”
His head whips my way. “Out?”
“You’re new here. And from what you’ve said, I take it you haven’t had a chance to see town?”
“Not much of it.”
“Then let’s go out. There’s a nice diner five minutes from here. Unless you’d rather stay?”
He frowns a little, closing the fridge. “No, that’s fine. It’s just… Is that okay? Your doctor said to rest.”
I offer a wan smile. “I’m feeling well enough for a short trip. Believe me. It’s not the first time I’ve had my chest sliced open.”
Caspian’s face pales, a sharp breath sucked through his lips. The reaction surprises me, and I step forward, offering my hand to keep him steady.
“Hey, you all right?”
“Can we not…talk about your chest being open? I can’t… I don’t…” He shakes his head quickly, and I tug him in without thought, my arms wrapping around him, my hand rubbing soothing circles over his back.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine,” he murmurs, but clearly I hit a nerve.
“It was a quick outpatient procedure,” I remind him. “Hardly invasive, not like it used to be. I’m fine to drive, and I can even start exercising again in a week or so. I promise it’s no big deal.”
Caspian eases back, the stern expression on his face nearly making me laugh. That is, until he speaks. “You died, Lee. Forgive me for not wanting the reminder.”
“I’ll always have the scars,” I point out.
My pulse picks up when Caspian places his palm on my chest. The bandage is still there beneath my shirt, freshly changed this morning. The surgical glue looked pristine whenI checked, only a thin pink line proof of the new pacemaker beneath my skin.
Caspian traces his finger over the spot as if he can feel it, when I know he can’t. The new generation of devices are so slim, they don’t even leave a bump. Not like my first one did when I was a child.
His voice is near a whisper. “I’ve seen you die so many times. I don’t think you understand, Lee.”
No, I don’t think I do, either.
My pulse feathers beneath Caspian’s fingertips, his eyes filled with more sorrow than someone his age should hold. I wrap my hand over his, stilling his nervous motions, and those eyes ping to mine.
“Sorry.” He steps quickly back, his hand slipping away. “Breakfast sounds great.”
