Page 121 of Until Then

The bathroom door eases open quietly.

“Hey.” His eyes soften when he finds me in the bed.

“Feeling better?” I toss back the blankets on his side, making space.

With a groan, he lies on his back and covers his face with his hands. “Yes and no.”

My heart cracks at the pain in those three words. “Do you want to talk about things?”

His body shakes with an exhale, like he’s on the verge of crying again. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay.”

The show plays in the background, a quiet soundtrack to the moment. Wonton stands, circles, digs at the comforter, then plops back down again. We ignore it all, instead rolling to face each other.

One emotion after another flickers across his face. Pain, love, worry, regret, fear. It all lingers there until settling into something more neutral.

Cupping my cheek, he rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.

“What do you want? What do you need?” I whisper as he applies pressure to my mouth.

“Just you,” he answers.

“You already have me.”

He swallows thickly, his eyes taking in every detail of my face.

Then he leans in and kisses me. Slow and sweet.

Then more urgent.

With a groan into my mouth, he moves over me, removes my clothes, traces my skin delicately. Memorizing.

When he sinks inside me, our movements are slow, reverent. He makes love to me like he’s terrified he might lose me, and I hold on tight, scared of the same.

When it’s over, he holds me, and I pray to the universe that he’ll never let go.

32

IZZY

I wake to an empty bed.Even Wonton is gone.

Blinking, I give my eyes time to adjust to the sun-drenched room, letting last night’s events come back to me.

I ease out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom, then change into a pair of jeans and a tee.

Downstairs, I find Wonton asleep on his cushion. Based on the way he lounges rather than popping up and dancing around me, I assume he’s been fed and let out, but Derrick is nowhere to be seen.

I start the Keurig, desperate for some caffeine, then peek outside, stifling a yawn. I scan the porch, then the yard, but Derrick is nowhere to be found. The shed isn’t open, and it’s quiet, so he’s not mowing.

Once my coffee is brewed, I add asplash of oat milk and take a careful sip. I prefer matcha from the local shop, but this will do.

Peeking out the front window, I find his truck is gone.

It’s possible he went to get breakfast and is coming back, but after yesterday, a strange foreboding plagues me. I don’t think it’s as simple as that. So I jog upstairs and swipe my phone off the nightstand, then fire off a text.

Me: Hey, just wanted to check in since you’re not home. Is everything okay?

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