Page 122 of The Voice We Find

I hold on to her arms as she starts to pull away. “I’m gonna stay in the main house with you. I’ll take the couch downstairs, just in case you need something.”

She opens her mouth as if to refute, then reconsiders. “I appreciate that.” She plants one of her ruby red flats on the walkway to the main house before twisting back. “Feel free to bring Phantom inside with you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I watch until she’s through the door and has turned on the main light before I take a path I’ve walked a million times before—as a little girl who dreamed of acting on a big stage, as a teenager too afraid to use her voice in her own home, and now as an adult whose dreams and voice have changed in more ways than one.

I switch on the outside lights, located on the back side of the house. They illuminate August asleep on a lounge chair with my cat perched on his chest. Despite wanting to be near him more than I want anything else in the world, I cannot allow my emotions to take the driver’s seat.

The dull patter of my shoes on tile is enough to perk Phantom’s ears, but he doesn’t move. His amber eye glows against the night sky, tracking me across the patterned tile as if to say,I’ve found my new BFF. Traitor.

There’s a sliver of cushion next to August’s right hip on the edge of the chaise, but I don’t take it, even though I want to. Instead, I stand at the end of the narrow lounge chair by his feet and tap it with my boot. He doesn’t budge. I tap it again. This time, Phantom looks at me like he’s cussing me out. When I tap a third time, August jackknifes up, evicting my cat.

He blinks and blinks and blinks and then scrambles to his feet. “Sophie. You’re home.”

“Yes,” I rasp, my throat tight at seeing him this close after so long of not seeing him at all. “And you’re here.”

A chill rips through the air, and August promptly unzips his fleece and drapes it over my shoulders around my back. I could suggest we go inside the giant, warm house across the path, but neither of us looks like comfort has been our top priority in the recent hours. Or perhaps the recent weeks. August is likely halfway frozen by now, and I’m halfway to brain fry after the night I’ve had.

And yet, my voice is still alive and well.

“You hurt me, August,” I say.

He glances down at his feet and then finds my gaze again. “I know I did, and I ... I’m trying really hard not to hate myself for that. For what I said to you that night, and especially for what I didn’t say to you. I’m sorry. I’ve been a coward.”

My heart beats double time at this. “I’d never want you to hate yourself.”

The tiniest hint of a smile twists on his lips. “Does that mean it’s not too late for me to give you a reason to stay?”

The tip of my nose begins to tingle with coming tears. “I suppose that depends on your reason.”

He holds out his hand to me. “Will you sit with me a minute?”

And just that—just that small gesture alone—makes me lightheaded with hope.

I give him my hand, and we find our seat on the chaise, our bodies angled to face each other. He keeps hold of my hand.

“I’ve lied to you by omission for months, thinking that if I held back what I really feel for you I would somehow protect you from the worst parts of me. But I’m learning that love doesn’t work that way. I couldn’t compartmentalize it like I could everything else. I couldn’t compartmentalizeyou.” He takes in a slow breath. “Somehow, you managed to shine a light on every dark place I’ve been too ashamed for you to see. And still...” He swallows hard. “You loved me anyway.”

“Love,” I correct softly as tears trail down my face. “What I feel for you is present tense.”

He cups my cheek with his hand. “And what I feel for you is also present tense. So much so that if you hadn’t come home tonight, I was planning to implement the buddy system and crash your audition tomorrow.”

I crinkle my brow. “Who’s your buddy?”

“Phantom.”

I smile at this and lean into his touch all the more. “I’m not leaving, August.”

“You’re not?”

I shake my head. “I prayed that God would make it clear, and He did. Tonight. In more ways than one.”

“Does it have something to do with the Twilight Theater?” he asks in a way that shows just how in-tune he is with the passion that makes my heart beat. So much has transpired over the last six months, and August has been there for all of it.

“That’s one reason, yes, but also...” I exhale slowly, knowing this next statement will lead to a lengthy Pandora’s box conversation. “I’m going to be an auntie soon, and I want to be here for him—for them both.”

This, I can tell, was certainly not an announcement he was expecting. Which means he’s about to be hit with a whole heap of surprises in just a matter of a minutes.

“Jasper’s wife is pregnant?”

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