Erika covered her face with her hands. “You’re not making this up, are you?”
“No, that would be beyond cruel. I’m just telling you what your memory is—the foundational memory, not the one you edited because you felt responsible for it all. Because you were the one who brought him into that house, into your family, as your boyfriend.”
“Oh… God…”
He wanted to hug her to him, but he had the sense she needed the space. Finding a middle ground, he stroked her back in slow circles as she held herself and rocked. It was so hard to learn the truth sometimes, even if it did set you free. It was also so hard not to take false responsibility for things.
Sometimes, what we feared most about ourselves defined our lives. Even if it was a total falsity.
After the longest time, she turned her head toward him. “How could I have gotten it all wrong.”
“She was your mother. She loved you and you loved her, and survivor’s guilt is a powerful editor. It’s that simple.”
There was a longer silence, but it was less tense, more reflective. And he gave her the time she needed… even though it was time for him to go.
“Thank you,” she said in a voice that cracked. “Thank you for that.”
“I didn’t really do anything.”
“Yes, you did. In a way no one else I know could have.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
“In a heartbeat.”
Speaking of hearts, he thought. You’ve stolen mine—
“I need to know how this is going to work.” Her words, as she interrupted his thought, were spoken fast. “Like, what are we doing here. Like, what is this—and I’m asking this now because I have this weird sense you’re leaving me. Is that true? Are you? Because the first thing you just told me seems like a confession. And the second is like something you had to get out before… I don’t know, you don’t come back.”
Jesus, she read him like a book.
Balz pushed himself up against the headboard. “Do you want me to be honest or try to play it cool?”
“Honest. Always.”
He shrugged. “I want to move in here. Stay with you in this house. In the basement. Until I croak seven hundred years from now.”
“Seven… hundred years?” she breathed.
“Give or take. And no, I don’t care if you age faster. I’m going to love you any way you are—” He clapped his molars shut. “I mean. Ah.”
Oh, shit. Did he just—
“Did you… just…”
“Yeah,” he said on a sigh. “I think I did. I did. It’s too soon, I know. I’ve wanted to keep it from you for at least a week or at least another night. I think I would have looked really so much more reasonable—”
She was on him before he knew it, her mouth finding his, her arms around him. After she kissed him, she said, “I love you, too.”
His breath caught. And then he exhaled for what felt like a century. With a sense of reverent gratitude, he gathered her close to him and kissed her back.
The next thing he knew, he had rolled her over and was inside of her. They had made love with all kinds of heat and desperate yearning/desire/need before. For all those hours. But this was different. This was just a gentle rock that was about communion. And as she found her release, he let himself go as well.
So they were once again flying together.
After lovemaking was over, he settled her on top of his chest so he didn’t crush her—and he really wished he didn’t have to go. It was too important for them, however.
“Except I can’t give up my job,” she said roughly. “You told me the worlds don’t mesh, and I know that there is a lot at stake, but I can’t desert my colleagues. My purpose. I need it to help myself. Help others—”
“I’ll make it work. Somehow, I’ll figure out a way to make it work. You won’t have to give up your job. There have been exceptions made before, and there’ll be one for you. We might have to live somewhere that’s safer for me—”
“Not a problem. I’ll move anywhere around Caldwell. Anywhere we need to.”
Balz started smiling, the idea there was a future for them a fantasy that he wanted to believe would come true. “Are we moving in together, then?”
“Yes, we are.”
They laughed together, giddy as lovebirds. And then she had to go to the loo.
As she hopped off the bed and her naked body danced across the dim room, he was looking forward to her return. Surely they had time for one more quickie?
In the doorway of the bathroom, her breasts and hips cut a hell of a silhouette as she turned the overhead light on and looked across at him. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” he murmured while she closed the door.