I couldn’t leave Chaz.

I tried to reason that moving wouldn’t be such a big deal and that she’d want to be near Becca, too. You know, on the days she actually remembered who Becca was. Besides, she had in-home care. It’s not like I’d be taking her out of a special home to be with us.

Right?

Wrong.

I’d be taking her away from her home, and that thought alone had me shutting down yet another fantasy my mind had unknowingly created.

*     *     *

It’s dark by the time I find myself standing on Becca’s porch, memories of the last time I did this freezing me to my spot. I take a mental scan of my surroundings: the single car in the driveway, the dim flickering of the TV on inside, and then I work up whatever courage I need and knock on the damn door.

I step back as soon as it opens and Martin appears, eyes narrowed in confusion before a grin appears. “What are you doing here, Warden?” Swear, he actually sees the relaxing of my shoulders when he says those words because he chuckles, deep and gruff.

“I came to surprise Becs,” I tell him.

He nods, a hand going in his front pocket while the other opens the door wider for me. “She’s not home, but you’re welcome to wait for her.”

I enter their house for the first time and pull out my phone to send a text to Mom, letting her know I’ll be back at the hotel later. She replies quickly, telling me she didn’t expect me at all that night, and by the time I shove the phone back in my pocket and look up, Martin’s standing in front of me with a beer in each hand. I take one and accept his offered gesture for me to sit on the couch.

I glance around his house—at the kitchen attached to a living room and a bunch of doors I assume lead to bedrooms and bathrooms. It’s bigger than my apartment, but much smaller than Chaz’s. “Becca’s at work,” Martin says, sitting next to me.

“At the paper?” I look at my watch. It’s almost ten. “Still?”

“I take it she didn’t tell you?” Martin grimaces. “Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Tell me what?”

—Becca—

I freeze just inside the doorway and look over at my dad, who’s sitting on the couch next to Josh, both of them grinning like fools. And then something takes over me. This burst of elation that I hadn’t felt since some punk skater gave me my very own skateboard with a single note, a single question, asking me to be his. I drop my bags, my keys, my need to look pretty in front of Josh, and I charge at him. He stands just in time to catch me, his arms wrapping around my waist, lifting me off my feet. “Surprise,” he murmurs against my neck, his laughter mixing with Dad’s.

I pull back and grab his face in my hands, and then I kiss him. His mouth, his cheeks, his chin, his nose, his everything, over and over.

“I think she’s happy to see you,” Dad says.

Josh settles me carefully on my feet and sits back down. I sit sideways on his lap, my arms around his neck, refusing to let him go. I try to contain my smile, but nothing in the world can prevent it from splitting my face in two. My cheeks sting from the unfamiliar pressure, and for some reason, I’m bouncing. I grab Josh’s face again and get him to look at me. “Why?” I mouth.

“I had some free time.” He shrugs. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I look over at Dad. “Did you know?” I sign.

“No. It was a last minute thing,” Josh answers for him.

My eyes snap to his, my smile somehow getting wider. I knew he was learning ASL, but I wanted to wait until he was ready to bring it up. His grin matches mine and I squeeze him tighter, my legs kicking out in front of me.

“I miss you so much,” I sign.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he signs back.

I press a hand to my chest, trying to relieve the ache his actions brought on.

His eyes focus on my hands when I sign, “How long are you here?”

“Two nights,” he says.

My fingers move again. “T O M M—”

“He’s here. We can see him tomorrow,” he says, tapping my leg. “Tonight, I just wanted you to myself.”

I squeal. It’s silent, but it’s there. And Josh knows exactly how I feel because he chuckles. Dad stands, pulling my attention away from Josh. “Are you staying the night?” Dad asks him.

“If that’s okay with you?”

Dad nods. “I’ll get the couch ready for you.”