“A what? A lift?”
“It’s London. Lift. Elevator. Same thing.”
“So she drops an earring in the lift.”
I hear his grin in the dark and wait a beat to let my silence warn him.
“Okay, okay.” He laughs into my hair. “I’ll stop.”
I elbow him in the stomach. He “omphs”, and I go on.
“Well she drops the earring and the story branches off into these two different scenarios.” My good humor dissolves like sugar in vinegar. “With these two different men.”
August doesn’t laugh either, but finds my hand and links our fingers under the overstuffed weight of the duvet. He waits for my next words.
“I used to think of the night we met all the time.” I bite my lip and blink back unexpected tears. “You wanted to kiss me outside the bar.”
“And you told me you had a boyfriend.” His voice has grown sober, too.
“When I was …”
Beaten. Bruised. Threatened. Violated.
“… unhappy, I would imagine that I kissed you that night.” I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could erase the wasted years between then and now. “I would imagine that I chose you, and that one choice changed everything.”
He’s quiet. I won’t tell him everything. I won’t tell him much at all, but it will be the truth.
“It was like there was this parallel universe where I made the right choice, and we were happy.” I struggle to release the words that acknowledge my error. “But I would always wake up, and you weren’t there. Caleb was.”
“In this alternative universe,” he says softly, caressing the webbing between my fingers, “was Sarai mine?”
I hesitate, not sure what he wants me to say, so again I choose the truth. I nod. He drops his head to my nape and leaves a long breath there.
“Then we were there together, because that’s what kept me going when you were with him.” He rolls me onto my back, pressing his forearm by my head into the pillow. “Not that it had already happened, but that it still could.” He brushes the hair back from my face, peering down at me in the darkness like it’s the light of day and he can see me clearly. “It has happened, Iris.” He brings our clasped hands to his lips. “That’s not an alternative universe. That’s our life, baby.”
I almost don’t want to smile—like my happiness might shatter this illusion, and I’ll wake up curled at the edge of the bed, staring down the barrel of Caleb’s pistol. But I won’t. Tomorrow I’ll wake up in August’s arms, and my past, my memories, Caleb – can’t rob me of that.
“Can I tell you something?” August’s voice anchors me in this dream, extends it a little longer.
“Of course.”
“I want to wake up this way every morning,” he says, hope lifting his words. “And I want our kids to bust through the door and jump in bed with us.”
Tears gather at the corners of my eyes and silently stripe my cheeks. There was once a girl brave enough to want those things, but she was crushed and ground to dust. I don’t know if I could find her again if I tried.
“And I’ll make pancakes,” he continues, his enthusiasm growing. “And I can teach them to shoot, or not. They don’t have to play basketball. I don’t care. I just want them to be ours. Yours and mine.”
He strokes his thumb over that finger on my left hand, which once held a ring of protection and once held a ring of bondage. The tears won’t stop because I’m not ready to put a ring on that finger. As much as I love August, that’s a step, a risk I’m not ready to take. Not even for him. Not yet.
I’m braced for the question, trying to figure out how to tell the man I love no.
“If I were to ask you tonight, Iris, would you say yes?”
He already knows. I hear the resignation, the disappointment in his voice, and I wish I could surprise him. I can’t yet.
But I will.
I lived in hell, and my way back is a journey. I survived a nightmare, escaped a monster, and I faced him down today. I may not be able to tell August yes tonight, but one day I will.