Page 139 of Fate, Interrupted

I want to keep that knowledge for a little while: of what he looks like when he thinks no one is watching. The bowed head, without asking for anything from me except to be here when I open my eyes.

He’s still in the chair when I wake up properly.

The light outside is gone. Whatever is left of the day has finished its business without me, and I find I don’t mind.

He looks up when I move.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” he says.

I take a careful breath. “You look terrible.”

“I’ve been in this chair for fourteen hours.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say.

“Yes I did,” he says.

I consider arguing with that, but I don’t.

“They caught the guy, Norah. The shooter. He’s behind bars with a bail so high, he’ll never get out.”

I smile wanly at that. “If I didn’t hurt so much, I’d feel sorry that he’s such an angry guy.”

“Don’t feel sorry for him, ever. I just wanted you to know. We’ll both have to testify eventually, but that will be months from now.”

“Thank you,” I say, not sure what more there is to say or feel about the bitter man, a trial, or what I want to happen to him.

He leans forward. “I need to say something.”

I wait. I’m good at waiting.

“I know what this is,” he says. “What you are to me. I’ve known for a while and I haven’t…” He stops. Starts again. “There are things I haven’t told you yet. Things you deserve to know that I’m going to tell you when you’re out of that bed and I’ve slept.” He holds my gaze. “But I need you to know this. Before you go back to sleep. Before tomorrow. I need you to know I’m here because there’s nowhere else I’d be.”

I look at him for a long moment.

“Silas,” I say.

“Yeah.”

“I know,” I say.

“You know.”

“I’ve known for a while.” The corner of my mouth moves. “I was waiting for you to get there.”

The lines of his face ease in a way I haven’t seen since before the parking lot.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says.

“We do,” I say. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” he agrees.

I close my eyes. His hand is still around mine, warm and steady.

“Still going to Paxton. We’re going to be okay,” I say, mostly to myself, already drifting.