Page 21 of Until You Found Me

He huffs while her laughter fills the space, reminding him how consistently amazed he is at her resilience. He wonders if she’s always been able to push through the hardest moments with a smile, or if the lack of all those harsh memories makes it easier for light to shine through the cracks.

“You hungry? Was about to make breakfast for dinner.” It’s a flimsy reason to ask her to stay, but she nods like the idea of eating with him is the best thing she’s heard all night. “An omelet okay?”

“Sounds perfect. Can I help?”

“Nope, I got it. Go on and sit down.”

She takes up a seat at the table and he makes his usual western omelet. Eggs with peppers and onions, and a little sausage thrown in. Nothing fancy to him. It’s all cheap food, but it gets the job done. He’s glad he knows how to makesomethingso he can share it with her.

The conversation lulls when they have their plates in front of them at the table. He’s never been good at being social. It’s easier with her than usual, but he still struggles to fill the gaps brought on by his shortcomings. Thankfully, she picks up his slack.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“Oh, I can’t cook. Breakfast is all I’m decent at unless I’m grilling up a deer.”

She wrinkles her nose with a curious shake of her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried that, but I have some vague recollection of baking. Sort of like a memory. It’s hard to explain, but if I tried to bake some cookies right now, I probably could without a recipe.”

“Well, you gotta try, then. You got the stuff for it back there?”

“I’m not sure. I think everything but the chocolate chips.”

He gets up to grab a bar of dark chocolate from a cabinet to place in front of her. “Would this work? Chop it up?”

She smiles around a bite of eggs. “That works. This means you have to taste test them and if they turn out terrible, you gotta be honest.”

“Never met a cookie I don’t like. Not possible. Oh, before I forget, you got a message from the cops. Carl called me because he couldn’t find you at the shelter. I only listened because I didn’t know who it was when I opened the voicemail, not because I was snooping. Here…”

He hands her his cell phone, and she hits play on the speaker to let Carl’s voice reverberate in the small space.

“Logan? Looking for Tessa, the woman from the road. Audrey said she left the clinic with you but she ain’t at the shelter and I gotnews to talk to her about. There’s no progress on the case, so don’t let her get worried about that. It’s more regarding the financial side of things and keeping her afloat while the red tape is worked out. Have her call me if you see her, and if you don’t lemme know that, too. Okay, thanks.”

She frowns in confusion, looking at the clock on his wall. “It’s too late to call now. The financial side of things. What do you think that means?”

“Could be giving you some money to live off of until they figure out who you are. The government can be a bitch and take forever, but this isn’t a usual case. Might have pushed something through.”

“It would be nice to be able to buy my own groceries, at least. No progress on the case, though. How does someone do…. what my husband did and just drive away? Disappear. No trace. I don’t understand how he’s getting away with this.”

“He won’t. Not a fucking chance that’s happening. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

She leans back in her chair, stabbing a piece of egg with her fork. “Ex. I need to start saying ex-husband. Think it’s safe to assume attempted murder might as well be a legal divorce.”

She goes quiet then, a distant look on her face he doesn’t know how to chase away.

“The cop had an accent.” She continues, her words soft. “Do I have an accent? Can you tell where I was raised?”

She’s hopeful that he might find some hidden dialect in her tone and pinpoint her origin, but of course, he has no answers. He never does.

“Don’t hear anything specific. A hint of the south sometimes, but it’s not strong. Hard to say, just know you got a good one.” He cringes at his words. “Your voice, I mean, it’snice.”

He should have stopped talking while he was ahead.

Tessa likes his poorly delivered compliment though, smiling down at her plate before looking up at him through long lashes…and then she breaks into a yawn that he can almost feel in his own chest. “Sorry, I’m so tired I could nap at the table.”

He feels exhausted just looking at her and despite knowing the offer is too forward, he continues anyway. “You can nap here if you want. My sheets are clean.”

“I won’t impose on you like that. I’ll be fine. I have a bed in the dome and I better learn how to use it, right?”

“Yeah. Right. But it’s no imposition if you change your mind. I mean, you’re tired, and you’re here already. I was just gonna work on some arrows for a while.”

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