He went back to his packing, his movements efficient but his shoulders stiff with tension. “Well, there really is no good news in this. I’m not
naive enough to think Neve is just going to reappear one day. But if we could find out what happened, who took her . . . I may be able to provide some closure for my parents. Some peace. They’ve spent every day since she went missing dedicating their lives to the cause.”
“So have you,” I said gently.
He peered back over his shoulder at me. “I owed that much to her. If I had done what I was supposed to that day, she may still be around.”
“You were a kid, Foster,” I said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “You weren’t old enough to be responsible for someone else.”
His jaw twitched. “I just need to be able to tell my parents—we got him or them or whoever was involved. Maybe once there’s some justice handed down . . .”
“They’ll forgive you?” I asked, my heart heavy for him.
He zipped up his suitcase and stared down at it, his expression grim. “No, angel, they’ll never do that. How could they? But maybe they’ll at least be able to move on.”
The lonely ache in his voice—that of a kid still looking for love from his parents—made my chest hurt. But I knew there was nothing I could say to make him feel better. That wound was one only his mom and dad could heal. I hoped for his sake that they would mend that bridge.
“Will you call me and let me know how things go when you get a chance?”
A brief smile touched his lips and he cupped my cheek. “I won’t have to. As soon as I take care of this, I’m coming right back down here so we can really talk.”
“Okay,” I said returning his smile.
“Just tell me one thing.”
I leaned into his touch. “What’s that?”
“Tell me I have still have a shot, angel.”
I closed my eyes, knowing the truth in my heart even if I couldn’t quite face it yet. “You’ve still got a shot.”
He grinned fully now and laid a soft, toe-curling kiss on my mouth. “I love you, Cela.”
“You keep saying that,” I teased, trying to lighten the impact of the words.
“I keep meaning it.” He gave me another quick peck, then grabbed his bag. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“All right.” I went to grab my things but then realized I had no things. I’d basically gone out in my pajamas last night. No phone. No purse. Just my keys. Then the rest of that reality hit. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling the door open.
“Remember how angry you got when I didn’t check the peephole?”
“Yeah,” he said cautiously.
“Well, that is going to look like a trip through the daisies compared to how livid my father is going to be when I get home.”
He wagged a finger at me. “Ooh, someone’s getting grounded.”
I swatted his arm and laughed. “Shut up.”
He put his arm around my shoulders. “See, at least when I punish you, you get some fun out of it.”
“I’ll add that into your pro column.”
He gave me a squeeze. “Good, I need all the help I can get.”
I leaned into him and sighed. Being there with his arm wrapped around me again was like finding my comfortable corner in the universe. Something inside me smoothed out when I was with him. He thought he was the one that needed help. But really, it was me who was in trouble.