“That bad?”
“No.”
“Then why are you smiling like that?”
“Because six months ago, you couldn’t admit you wanted me in the same room.”
“That was different.”
“You walked into my room.”
She groaned.
“Are you going to mention that forever?”
“Absolutely.”
She shook her head, laughing.
Then her expression softened.
“I spent a long time thinking love was something that happened to people who were better at trusting than I was.”
I said nothing.
She continued.
“Then you showed up with a duffel bag and started fixing everything in my house.”
“I still haven’t fixed the upstairs window.”
“I’m not talking about the house.”
My throat tightened.
Michelle squeezed my hand.
“You didn’t rescue me.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t save me.”
“I know.”
“You just stayed.”
I turned toward her.
“That was the easy part.”
Her eyes filled.
“No,” she whispered. “For me, that was everything.”
