Page 78 of Say You Will

“Excellent. I considered several terms of endearment, but that one felt like you.”

“You planned out what to call me?”

“Not exactly. I’ll explain when we’re outside.” I reach in to pick her up in a bridal carry. “I’m lifting you through the window. Let me do the work.”

She clutches the bottle and the blanket with a small gasping giggle. Then I’m standing on the roof with Franki in my arms, the night clear and bright.

I drop a quick kiss to her mouth. When I pull back, she continues to stare into my eyes, and I smile. “Look up, Franki.”

She tips her head back, eyes widening, mouth opening slightly. She’s silent for a long moment before she speaks in reverent tones. “I’ve never seen something like this in person. The internet, maybe.”

“One day, if you like, we’ll travel. There are places with much better visibility. The skies I’ll show you . . . you’ll struggle to believe they’re real.”

“This already doesn’t feel real. It’s completely endless, but, somehow, so close. If I stretch up just a little, I could flick Cassiopeia with my finger. The heavens are right here.”

She is so damn beautiful. Brown eyes huge behind her glasses, hair that’s gone staticky where it sticks out under the cap, pink lips damp and smiling.

“Incredible,” I murmur.

Her nose is reddening, and her breath turns to vapor with every exhale as she glances at me. “You’re not even looking.”

“I’m looking.”

I lower her to the roof and lie beside her with my bicep acting as her pillow and my other arm under my head. “Don’t forget to drink your water.”

At my reminder, she smiles at me with a look of adoration and takes a sip. “Thank you.”

“You confuse me,” I admit. “I offered you diamonds and houses, and you rejected them. I give you a bottle of water, and you behave as though I’ve given you the penultimate gift.”

She cuddles into me and looks up at the night sky. “I know.”

We lie there, on the roof, and look at the stars for long minutes, Franki snug against my side to stay warm.

She readjusts and pulls the blanket around so she can cover me with it too. “Now, explain why you call me darling.”

“There’s research to indicate that nicknames and terms of endearment may lead the person being addressed to experiencea sense of belonging and feeling valued. It has to be specific to that person, to be most effective.”

She leans against me harder. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

I sigh, certain she’s using sarcasm. “You think I’m being too clinical again.”

“No. I think you’re Henry, and I love it. The fact that you decided to use a term of endearment on purpose because you hoped it would make me feel cared for,” she chokes on her words before she finishes, “is wonderful. I shouldn’t have joked about your attention to detail. I can be awkward sometimes, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I haven’t.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “You made my first time perfect when it could have been painful or a disappointment.”

“There’s a lot of advice on the internet telling women not to expect sex to be good the first time, but the more I studied, the more I questioned why that appears to be the case. Many experts agree that disappointing experiences are often the result of a lack of adequate arousal, relaxation, and preparation. I didn’t know you were a virgin, but I had concerns you might have had a bad sexual encounter in the past . . .”

“You’re trying to figure out why I never had relationships. I’ve dated here and there, but . . . I don’t know how to explain it. As soon as someone tried to get close, I’d get claustrophobic. It felt stupid to force myself to be with someone just so I could check off some random list of ‘things I was supposed to do by a certain age’ to avoid people’s judgment.”

“I know that feeling well. For me, the thought of anyone but you felt like a cage.”

She squeezes me tighter. “Then you understand. I was also leery because my parents’ relationships were a god-awfulexample. I don’t trust easily. There are a lot offilannerersin the world.” There’s a smile in her voice at the end.

The weight of her words sinks in slowly. It may be instinctual or memories of our past, but she trusted me when she’s never trusted anyone else. I rub my chest, right over the inexplicable ache in my heart.

“Now tell me the nicknames you considered and rejected before you settled on ‘darling,’” she says.

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