Page 138 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

While the prospect of being the redheaded filling of this man-sandwich makes my insides squirm delectably, there’s something even more powerful going on in my chest.

“You know, that’s the one thing I wished for as a kid. Over and over again. To be loved,” I whisper. “And now that it’s here, I’m not sure how to accept it. It’s been this unattainable thing and now it’s in my hands like a gift. I love you both,” I admit. “So very, very much, and I desperately want to live in a world where all of us can be happy together.”

Joel nods with a small smile. “You don’t need to decide anything right now, take as much time as you need.”

I brush back the hair from his forehead. “Are you tired?”

“A bit.”

“You need to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“No, you should go home.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll?—”

“Dusty,” he says sternly. “You haven’t been home. You need to sleep and eat and shower and none of those things are fun to do at a hospital. Please.” He dips low to catch my eye. “I’ll be fine. It would make me feel better if you went home and made yourself feel better too.”

I want to argue, but it’s hard when he’s making sense.

“I suppose Stella must be wondering where the hell I am. She’ll probably claw my legs apart desperate for food when I get home.”

He smiles. “See? I’ve got to look out for my girl, Stella.”

I nod. “Okay, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I love you,” I murmur.

He peeks through a squinting eyelid. “I love you too.”

I smile and push myself off the hospital bed.

“Do me a favor?” Joel adds.

“Anything.”

“Take Key with you.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “He’s been through a lot and—” He looks up at me through his eyelashes. “I know he’s beating himself up over everything. Besides, I think he needs to know for sure how you feel about him.”

Joel doesn’t say anything else. He closes his eyes and lays his head back against his pillow, and I stand lost in thought by his side until he drifts off.

For so many years I thought me leaving was what Key wanted—what he needed. But if what he said is true, then everything changes. How did my leaving affect him? I imagine that scared boy sitting with a single bag and his guitar at that empty bus station. The panic on his face growing more and more pronounced as he wondered why I wasn’t there. Why I didn’t I wait for him. How he must have thought his life was over.

I shuffle out into the hallway. I’m feeling better, but I’m also craving a shower and my own bed. Joel isn’t wrong; I need to go home.

“Dusty?”

Framed in the doorway is Key’s silhouette.

“Hey,” I reply, biting my cheek.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah, much. But, umm . . . I’m going to duck over to my place for a bit. Joel’s insisting.”

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