Page 30 of Give In

“Tell me.”

“On the plane. When I told you about all the jobs.” She shakes her head slightly. “You just listened. You didn’t try to fix it or offer advice or look at me like I was a problem. You just listened and laughed and asked for more.” She looks up at me. “Nobody does that. Nobody has ever asked for more. Not when it comes to me.”

“I’ll always do that,” I say. “You can tell me every ridiculous story you have and I will ask for more every time. I will always want more with you. More of you. More of your stories. More of your kisses. More of your time. I will never get my fill.”

She makes a sound that is halfway between a laugh and a sob, which is very Clover, and then she steps closer and puts her forehead against my chest, and I wrap both arms around her and we stop approximating dancing entirely and just stand in the middle of the floor while the song moves around us.

“I love you,” she says into my shirt. “I loved you somewhere over the Atlantic and it scared the hell out of me.”

I press my mouth to the top of her head. “I know.”

“You knew?”

“I had a strong suspicion.”

She leans back to look at me and her face is streaked and bright and completely beautiful. “That’s annoying.”

“Probably,” I agree.

She reaches up and puts her palm against my jaw, and I turn my face slightly into her hand without thinking about it, and she watches this happen with an expression that does something permanent to my chest.

“So what happens now?” she asks.

“Now,” I say, “we figure it out. Together. All the complicated logistics and the different cities.”

“As it turns out, I’m in between jobs, so I’m free to move wherever I want.”

“Is that so?”

She nods, quite pleased with herself.

“We figure all of it out.” I look at her. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” she agrees.

“Tonight we dance.”

She settles back against me. I pull her in. The band plays. Across the floor Leo catches my eye over Juniper’s shoulder and lifts his chin in the smallest possible nod, and I nod back, and that is the entirety of that conversation and it is enough.

“Heath,” Clover says.

“Yeah, baby girl.”

“Your son bought the same books twice too, you know.” She pauses. “He does it for Juniper. Leaves them on her side of the bed with notes in the margins. Things he wants her to read.”

I close my eyes briefly.

“I thought you’d want to know,” she says quietly. “What you built.”

I hold her a little tighter, and we dance, and the night is warm, and my son is married, and the woman in my arms is mine, and I think that this is what it feels like when everything you didn’t know you were working toward finally arrives.

epilogue

Clover

Several months later…

“Are you sure you don’t think this is crazy?” I ask.