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He answers me with a smile. “I know it is.”

The rain cloud is really so much more than that, though, and I watch as he stares at it, finding every small detail I hid in the design. The gray cloud rains, but instead of water, music falls from the gray orb. There’s a tree sprouting, a spatter of color, fall leaves, a candle like from a birthday cake, a human heart, and a fire. It is everything we are and everything he made me. It’s us. The single biggest thing in my life so far, and I knew he would see it eventually, but I'm so glad it’s here where I can watch his reaction.

His hand touches my back softly, and I fight the urge to crawl into his arms again. He’s quiet for a moment as he stares at the painting. Finally, he looks at me, his eyes lingering on my face like he’s looking for something.

“Can I take you out for dinner?” he asks carefully, looking around.

My heart pitter-patters harder in my chest. Dinner with Alex, sitting alone with him, to just be near him. I’d walk away from anything for that.

“Yeah. We’re just about done anyway,” I mumble, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“Are you sure?” His hand touches my elbow and I practically melt.

“I’m not in prison, Alex.” I laugh, and he smiles, creating little wrinkles around his eyes.

After saying goodbye to Hanna, I meet Alexander on the sidewalk, and we walk together to a place in the city that apparently has the best chicken and waffles. Being around him feels natural, like we are still the same two people together, even if we’ve changed apart.

While we walk, he asks about the program, and I tell him everything about the friends I've made and what I’ve learned. As we come up to the restaurant, he opens the door for me, and I walk past him, letting his eyes on my face send a warm rush of blood through my veins.

Sitting across from him at the small table, I can’t take my eyes off his face. He’s softer than before, like he’s healthier, happier. Twisting my napkin in my fingers, I don’t dare to let myself hope. I keep preparing myself to hear him say he’s seeing someone, and I hope that when that happens, I hold a smile instead of bursting into tears, which is what I want to do.

“How are you?” I finally ask when he lets me stop talking about myself. I twist the napkin between my fingers a little tighter.

He nods, holding a tight-lipped expression. “I’m okay.”

“Just okay?” I can tell he’s holding something back, and I’m not sure I want him to open up any more than that.

“Just okay. Some things are really good, but other things…” His eyes meet mine.

And I understand. There are parts of my life that are wonderful, new, and exciting, but beneath all of that, I’m miserable. It evens out to just okay.

My hand moves across the table and touches his hand. Immediately, his fingers are squeezing mine, and my body is on fire.

What now? Can we go back to what we had? Would it make all of this pointless?

We eat quickly, and he offers to walk me back to the co-op since it’s dark now. We’re silent again, but the energy is anything but easy and calm. My hand itches with the nearness of his, and I'm dying to reach out and hold his.

Just as we pass a dark alley, I’m swept away from the sidewalk, and I meet his chest with a crash, stealing the breath from my lungs. I don’t even bother gasping for air. All I care about is his lips, so when he leans down, I wind my arms around his neck and pull his mouth to mine.

We kiss each other hungrily, his body grinding against me like it’s the first breath we’ve taken in months. He moans into my mouth as I devour his lips. I will never let him go, I tell myself. Now that he's back in my arms, there is no way I can endure that emptiness again.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my mouth, and I quickly reply with the same.

“I missed you so much.”

Our foreheads meet, and it’s like the last four months don’t exist anymore.

His hands are on my hips, then around my waist, holding me tighter than ever before. The questions swirling around my brain have quieted, but they are there, lingering, waiting.

“I don’t have to go back just yet,” I whisper against his lips. “As long as I’m back by breakfast.”

A low growl hums from his chest as he pulls me tighter. “I…can’t…” he says, and my shoulders deflate, a cold sweat sweeping over my body. He can’t? Sensing my panic, he continues, “I made a promise…”

My body falls away from his. “A promise to who?” If there’s someone else, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’s something I don’t want to consider. I can’t.

“A promise to…myself,” he finishes, knitting his brow and looking down at me, waiting for me to understand.

And it takes a moment before I realize what he’s saying. My eyes pop open and I grasp his arms tighter. “You haven’t…?”