Devlin pulls back, wariness in his eyes. “Are you going to be thinking about ice cream while I fuck you?”
I can’t help but laugh, though my cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Probably,” I admit, sliding off his lap. “First, ice cream.”
He loops an arm around me, pulling me against his side and nuzzling my ear. “As long as I get to eat you next.”
I pull the bag into my lap, hoping to hide my blush, but Devlin plucks it away.
“Hey,” I protest, swiping for it as he holds it out of reach.
“This is my favorite part,” he says with a grin.
I cross my arms over my chest and give him a playful pout. I can drive now, and after ditching half a dozen cars we bought with cash as we crossed the country, I even have my own car, bought used and registered under my new name. I could have gone out for ice cream myself, but I know how much Devlin loves to bring me home whatever I’m craving.
His eyes dip to my swollen breasts, which my position put on display, and he swallows.
“Well played,” he says with a grin, dragging his eyes from my cleavage. He takes a pint of ice cream from the bag. “Cookies and cream.” He sets it on the edge of the coffee table, then continues pulling more from the bag, naming each one as he lines them up. “Strawberry. Mint chip. Rocky Road.” He ends with a pint jar of pickles. I try to laugh, since this is our little joke, even though I’ve never craved pickles. He keeps saying it’s going to happen, so he gets a jar every time I ask for ice cream. But this time, tears blur my eyes as I stare at the rocky road, the memory of King bringing that flavor to my room suddenly fresh in my mind.
“What’s wrong?” Devlin asks, alarmed at seeing my tears.
“It’s just the hormones,” I say. “And… And this.” I pull my phone from under the pillow and hand it to Devlin, burying my face in his chest. I can’t risk touching any of my old social media or even my private blog, but I read the news from Faulkner even when I know I shouldn’t.
Devlin holds me, letting me cry so I don’t have to look at him while he reads about Preston’s dad finally going down for a crime I know my grandfather committed. It’s been six months since we’ve seen our families. Six months since we dumped the car in the river and disappeared. Since we took Devlin’s money, bought a junky old car for cash, and drove away from Faulkner. Six months since I left my world with no goodbyes.
I still miss them every day, and I know Devlin misses his people, too. He never reads the news from back home. Not anymore. Not since the first month, when we watched with beating hearts and breath held, with fingers crossed that they wouldn’t come looking. That they’d believe the car was washed away by the floods with us in it, even though they didn’t find our bodies. Because of the jacket and certain other “evidence” in the back seat, the police eventually reached the conclusion that after sending the damning email, Devlin and I crawled in the back and were so caught up in each other that we didn’t notice the water rising until it was too late. We joke that at least they think we died doing what we love. I did once tell him it would be the perfect way to die.
Devlin swipes the story from the screen and lays my phone facedown on the coffee table. “Why do you look at that?” he asks, his voice almost pleading as he lifts my chin. “We can’t go back, Crystal. You know that.”
“I know,” I say, nodding and wiping my nose.
“I just hate to see you sad,” he says, kissing my teary face.
“It’s not fair, though,” I say. “Maybe we can send an anonymous letter or something.”
“Crystal,” he says. “You know that’s too risky. You were brave to do what you did for my dad, but I shouldn’t have even let you do that. We can’t save everyone.”
“I know.”
He runs his thumb across the fat pink diamond of my ring, the lone extravagant purchase we’ve made. It cost more than it did for us to buy new identities. I would have been happy with a twenty-dollar ring from a department store, but Devlin wasn’t having it. After watching him agonize about the fact that it would take him ten years working as a grunt for Nyso Records to afford something nice, I suggested he dip into our savings, which we’ve left mostly untouched. I don’t need more than the simple life his income provides. But he wanted to give me more.
His voice softens, and he holds my hand gently in his. “Remember what you told me when I didn’t want to use the trust fund money on your ring because it was Grampa Darling’s?”
I nod, remembering how hard it was to see him feel unworthy when he couldn’t give me the things he wanted to. “I said you earned it.”
“Well, Preston’s dad may not have killed that construction worker, but believe me, he earned whatever he gets.”
I nod, feeling slightly better. I reach for the rocky road, my heart filled with bittersweet memories. “I just miss them, you know?”
“I know, Sugar,” he says, handing me a spoon.
I know, too. I know this is worth it. The past six months have been the happiest, most freeing, contented months of my life. Devlin is rich on his own, but we decided it was safer not to live that way. We don’t have a big fancy house, a designer wardrobe, or an expensive car. But we don’t need it. We have each other.
Despite the things we did to each other in the past, or maybe because of them, I know nothing will ever come between us. Maybe it’s fucked up, but I’m glad we did those things to each other. If I can love and forgive him after what he did to me, he knows it’s real. And if he can love me and trust me after what I did, I know it’s real. We’re two fucked up people, and we know we have something that was worth every minute we fought for it. If it came easy, we wouldn’t know it was worth fighting for.
I may look back more than Devlin does, but I’d never risk what we fought so hard to win. I know that once the baby comes, I’ll only look forward to her beautiful future. We’re making our own family now. Our own rules. In our family, no one will have to be anything they don’t want to be. Their futures will be theirs to decide. Our kids will be loved for who they are, just as Devlin and I love each other.
Fiercely. Unconditionally. Until death.