Page 123 of Abyss

We both take sips of our champagne as Stella leaves to place our lunch orders.

Jett clears his throat. “So, have you told your . . .” he makes a confused face as if contemplating the words, “girlfriend? Admin? The woman responsible for thawing the glacial grump that you are?”

I lift a brow. “She won’t be my admin for long. I’m planning to tell her tonight now that all the details are finalized. I’m surprising her with a new set of house keys for our place in Portland.”

My brother’s brows lift. “Our?As in, yours and hers?”

“I plan to make everything mine and hers,” I say resolutely. There’s no question she’s the only one I want for the rest of my life.

My brother gives me a long stare, letting my words sink in. “You really love this woman.”

I watch a few bubbles rise to the top inside my champagne flute, reflecting on my feelings for Kavi, my amber-eyed ray of sunshine and sass. “I’ve taken forty-six years to find her, and I won’t waste another second without her. Yeah, I fucking love her.”

Though I haven’t said those three words to her yet.

I plan to—there’s no doubt about it—but they’re just words, aren’t they? Hopefully my actions, especially the surprise I have planned, will speak for themselves.

I have it all mapped out, too. We’ll eat dinner, and when we’re lying in bed, I’ll casually dangle the new set of keys in front of her. The ones for my current apartment have that metal orange attached to it. I got her a cherry keyring for this one. It’s silly and simple, but it’s her.

It’s us.

Jett’s grin widens, his teeth gleaming with happiness that matches my own. “I’m happy for you, big bro. She seems like a great girl.” His smile wavers a little. “Does Madison know yet? About any of this?”

I shake my head, running a hand over my face and feeling the weight of the impending conversation with my daughter pressing down on me. “Not yet.”

While I’ve spoken to Maddy over the past few weeks, I’ve held back dropping such monumental news over the phone. My plan is to first surprise Kavi with it tonight, and then inform Maddy next week when she’s back in town.

To be honest, I’m not sure how she’ll react. She’s always been level-headed, but telling your daughter you’re in love with her twenty-five-year-old friend and you’re moving to another state to be with her isn’t your run-of-the-mill conversation.

As Stella sets down our lunches, Jett reaches for his fork, casting a concerned glance my way, no doubt noting my apprehension. “Maddy’s a reasonable person. Maybe she won’tbe thrilled, but I’m sure she’ll come around to it. She’s always wanted you to find someone.” He digs into his shrimp pasta. “And now that you have, it’s all upwards from here. What could go wrong?”

Indeed, whatcouldgo wrong?

Except, perhaps, the nightmare scenario of the woman I love vanishing overnight because my grand gesture came too late.

My dad used to say,“When you find the woman meant for you, you’ll notice every little thing about her. And you’ll collect those little things like a magpie hoarding shiny trinkets, each one more precious than the last. From her throaty laugh to the animated way she speaks with her hands, to the way she plays with the ends of her hair when she’s lost in thought.” I knew he was admiring my mother, who was standing somewhere in the distance. “You’ll notice her because every detail about her will be as significant as a brushstroke on a masterpiece.”

He was right.

There’s not a single thing I don’t notice when it comes to this woman sitting next to me. From her deep sun-kissed thighs tempting me from under my button-down to the ribbons of her dark hair framing her face as she plays with her ring.

She’s compelling.

Captivating.

She’s never divulged the importance of that ring, but given that I’ve seen the inscription inside, I’m assuming it has something to do with her childhood best friend.

Each turn of that ring tugs at something deep inside me, an ache I struggle to put into words. An ache for a friend I’llnever meet, who knew her in ways I never will. But an ache for her loss, too.

“You do that a lot,” I say, pulling her attention to me.

I know she has something on her mind—aside from the work glaring back at her from her computer screen—and I’m willing to bet it’s something to do with us.

I have us on my mind, too. She may not know it, but it’s all I’ve had on my mind for weeks now—how to find a long-term between us.

I’ve never been good at divulging plans until they’ve solidified. It’s another one of the many lessons Dad taught me—not to count your chickens before they hatch—but now that everything is set, I’m dying to tell her.

I just want to do it a certain way . . . something that’ll have her gasping next to me in our bed.

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