Page 78 of Never Alone
Cole carried him up to the apartment without waking him. I changed Noah into pajamas. Cole pulled the blanket up. We left his door cracked open behind us.
I changed in the bathroom. When I came back to our room, Cole was already there. He was sitting on the edge of the pullout in his T-shirt and sweats, untying the corner of the sheet that always rode up.
I got into our bed. The lamp was on his side now—he'd moved it the second night so I wouldn't have to reach over him to turn it off. I clicked it off myself anyway.
Then I lay on my side, looked across the foot of dark between us, and said, "Cole."
"Yeah."
"Thank you. For today. For taking us."
He was quiet for a moment. The quiet he held when he was choosing words, not when he had nothing to say.
"You don't have to thank me, Tessa."
"I do, though. I haven't—" I had to find the right words. The third try worked. "I haven't been part of something in a long time. Years. Nicholas?—"
I stopped. I hadn't said his name in this room, and I wasn't sure I wanted to bring him into it.
"He didn't like me having friends. That was a thing. It started slowly. There was always a reason why a friend was wrong, and the reasons sounded like he was protecting me, and by the time I noticed there was a pattern, I didn't have anyone left."
Cole didn't say anything. He was very still.
"I forgot what it felt like to be in a room full of people who weren't going to use the conversation as evidence of something. That whole afternoon, no one was—building a file."
I was crying a little. I didn't let myself sound like it.
"They like you, Tessa."
"They were kind."
"They like you. And they like Noah. They were waiting on us."
"I noticed."
He let out a breath. I heard it in the dark.
"Aunt Jenna said something to Noah."
"He showed me the stone."
"She doesn't give those to everybody."
I closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them, he was looking at me. The way he looked at me sometimes when he thought I wasn't going to catch him.
"I haven't seen Noah that happy in a long time, Cole. Not for years. I want you to know that. Whatever else we say about whatever we're doing—that part's because of you."
He was quiet again.
"Tessa."
"Yeah."
"Get some sleep."
"You first."
"Stubborn."
