“What’s wrong?” I tease.

She throws her hands in the air while her lips move again, but they’re moving way too fast, and even if I cared enough to try to read her lips, it’d be impossible. She’s naked beneath her robe. I know, because when she leans over me to look beneath the blankets behind me, I get a glimpse of her bare breasts and I chuckle. She smacks me on the back of my head when she straightens up, so I do the only thing I can think to do. I pull on the strap around her waist and undo her robe, giving me a perfect view of her naked form. She rolls her eyes, but I can see the amusement in them, and because I’m the luckiest fire trucking man on earth, I know she’ll give in to me in three…

She removes her robe completely.

Two…

She reaches for my phone and types away.

One…

She shows it to me. We have ten minutes.

I throw the covers off me and pull her down until she’s lying on top of me, her body flush against mine. “Have you learned nothing, Becs? I only need ten seconds.”

Fifteen minutes later we’re satisfied, but we’re still in bed, still naked, still delaying the inevitable. “I don’t want you to go,” I tell her, my lips meeting the skin just below her belly button.

One of her hands finds my hair while the other types away on my phone.

“I don’t want to leave you, either.”

“So don’t.”

“Josh.”

My mouth moves from her stomach to her hips and I kiss the bones sticking out beneath her perfectly smooth, dark skin. “You’ve lost a little weight since I’ve seen you last. Make sure you eat, okay?”

“I’m just busy,” the phone says for her.

I glance up at her. “Well, make time. You can’t be beating yourself up physically. It’s not healthy. Three meals a day, Becs. Make sure you drink lots of water, eat all your fruit and vegetables.”

She tilts her head and smiles down at me. “You like me.”

I make my way up her body so I can see her. See my emerald eyes clear of pain and despair, see her raven dark hair splayed across the pillow, see her lips… lips I’ve craved and now tasted, and I wonder how it’s going to be possible for my heart to function when she won’t be around to make it beat. Make it live. Make it ache in a way that lets me know that living is just breathing, but living with her means living with purpose. With awareness. With love.

Her smile turns to a frown as her eyes search mine. “I love you,” she mouths, and I convince myself that it’s enough. It has to be.

“You’re coming home for summer break, right?” I ask.

Moments of silence pass before the phone says, “St. Louis is my home.”

I sigh. “So that’s a no?”

She removes her hands from around my neck and brings them between us so she can type with both hands.

“I wanted to tell you in person but it never felt like the right time. I got offered this amazing paid internship on a statewide online newspaper and I’d be stupid not to take it.”

I drop my head, my forehead meeting the pillow beside her.

“But I’ve already told them that I want some time off.”

I lean up quickly, my eyes snapping to hers. “When? Give me the dates!” I take my phone from her and open up my calendar.

Now we’re both holding the phone while she swipes at the screen, looking for the date. Her hands freeze, her eyes cast downward, and it’s all I need to see for the disappointment to kick in. She taps on the dates and brings up my schedule in Hong Kong, then opens the Notes app:

I checked your website for your tour dates and it had nothing for these dates! I can’t change them. I had to fight for them as it was!

“I know. Hong Kong host this gnarly yearly event and they don’t announce a venue or the competitors until two weeks before. It’s invite only and it’s Nico’s first one. I promised I’d go.”

She pouts, looking as dejected as I feel.

I kiss her softly. “I’ll make it work, okay? I’ll find a way.”

27

—Becca—

I look out the window while the cab driver speaks. “You visiting family?” he asks, watching me through the rear view mirror. “Where you coming from?”

I point to my throat and shake my head, then refocus on the trees that line the streets and the rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves. I wind down my window and inhale deeply, feeling the spring sun against my cheeks. Then I close my eyes and rest my head against the seat. I recall everything I felt the first time this happened. The fear of uncertainty had wreaked havoc on my mind and I was so afraid of the woman sitting next to me, a woman I would later call Grams. She spoke to me softly, gently, like she knew how I felt but understood me anyway. Now, I’m feeling it all over again… afraid and uncertain, only this time it’s because I have no idea how she’ll see me, or if she’ll see me at all.