Page 94 of Love Again

After he clears the plates, he spots the box Keller brought over the day I ended up taking him to the hospital. As I start to wash the dishes, he sets a few things on the table. A razor kit, some clothes, a bar of soap, and a package of toothbrushes.

“He said there were personal items in there. I thought he meant condoms. I was so embarrassed.”

Luke doesn’t answer. As I turn around, Luke sets a yellow Manila envelope on the table. I know exactly what it is.

“What do you want to do about this?” he says and faces me.

My heart begins to thud. “Throw it away.”

“I think shredding might be a better idea.”

He takes a step and puts both arms around me, presses our hips together, and dips his head down for a kiss on my neck.

He lets go and picks up the envelope. I take it from his hand and tear it down the middle and then again. In a moment, it’s in the trash. No drama. No second thoughts.

“I know something else we should do.” I take his hand in mine and interweave our fingers, leading him to the bedroom. Silently, I push down on his shoulders and make him sit on the edge of the bed. “Don’t get all excited. This is not what you think it is,” I say before I kneel by his feet. I reach under the bed and pull out the shoebox.

And that’s why the first night he’s home, all we do is lie in bed and open letter after letter after letter.

Luke reads each one out loud, slowly, carefully, sometimes pausing to squeeze my hand.

Every single letter begins My Dearest Devon. And every single one of them ends with: You are my breath—I will love you forever. Luke

Chapter Twenty-Four

Luke

It’s been a week since I left the hospital. I feel stronger every day. In some ways, discovering I didn’t relapse with rhabdo was such a relief it made me concentrate on taking better care of myself.

The first full morning I’m back, Cory and Laurel stop by. Cory is catching the school bus and Laurel is scheduled for Weaver’s. They come early.

“I was at the hopcicle too,” says Cory. “They asked a lot of questions.”

Laurel puts a hand over her mouth and then makes a face to indicate he did not enjoy these questions.

“Do you feel better now?” I ask.

“Oh, yes.” His mother taps his shoulder to remind him of something. “Do you feel better now?” he says.

“Much better,” I say, and then I squat down to his height. “I want to thank you, Cory, for being very brave. I must’ve looked pretty scary with my mask and helmet and my big coat.”

He shrugs. “I’ve seen Aunty Devon when she comes home from a fire. She smells.”

“You’re right Cory, I do. That’s why I use stinky soap to get rid of stinky smells.” Devon laughs.

As Laurel leaves, I hear her on the bottom step saying goodbye to Devon. “I never fully appreciated what you do. I was terrified. I get it now, though, why you . . .” And then they’re out the door and I can’t hear them anymore.

Somehow, I know Laurel is talking about us and why Devon left, and not so much about firefighting.

Devon climbs the stairs slowly. Keller has given her the entire month off with pay. He claims she gets this for painting the station. But I know there’s another reason. The same reason why he stuck the divorce papers in that box.

To keep us talking. He’s such the gay matchmaker.

“I still have my apartment in Orono,” I say, filling up a mug with hot water and fishing around for another teabag from a box of tea Keller dropped in the box.

“I thought Carlson was going to offer you that fire investigator job.”

I dunk the teabag. “He did.”