“Renata would be a good start.”
“You know what I mean.”
I took his hand.
“Girlfriend sounds pretty good.”
He grinned.
“Boyfriend works for me.”
The morning I left, Milwaukee was bitterly cold.
Two suitcases stood between our apartment doors.
The same twenty feet of carpet where we’d spent a year pretending nothing was happening.
Mrs. Bell appeared in her bathrobe as we carried the luggage downstairs.
“Take care of each other,” she said.
Outside, a cab waited with its engine running.
Graham placed my suitcase in the trunk.
Then he stepped close and kissed my cheek.
“That one’s hello,” he said.
He kissed my mouth.
“And that one’s something else.”
I laughed against his lips.
“February,” I whispered.
“February.”
I climbed into the cab.
He stood on the sidewalk until we turned the corner.
Three months later, I was showing him the streets where I’d grown up.
