Page 42 of Left of Forever

CHAPTER 21

WREN

“Do you believe in God these days? Or the universe, or something like it?” I ask Ellis as a bloom of jellyfish bob past. I’m transfixed by the sight of them undulating around the glowing blue water.

It doesn’t occur to me that this might feel like a bizarre or random question until he doesn’t answer it right away.

“It’d be convenient, wouldn’t it?” he eventually replies. When I look up at him, he’s staring through the glass portal, just as bewitched.

It turns out the aquarium is the perfect place to get a little philosophical. Like being surrounded by neon creatures that look like something make-believe also means nothing we say will seem any wilder or weirder. Certainly, me asking about his belief in a higher power isn’t more whimsical than a seahorse.

It started when he broke the ice earlier, when I met him in the hotel lobby and he’d greeted me with a coffee and a breakfastburrito and said,“Morning. I hated how you’d make us be the last to leave any social function.”When I froze, bewildered, he explained,“That was my first of the two things. Trying to knock them out early.”

I couldn’t suppress a goofy grin.“I didn’t like how antisocial you’d get sometimes, but I miss how you could unapologetically leave a party or a thing whenever we felt like it. I totally took that for granted. I have not mastered the solo Irish goodbye,”I admitted.“Also, I hated when you wouldn’t relax on days off!”I added, cheerfully beaming.“It annoyed the hell out of me!”

“How about you?” he asks me in the present.

“How about me, what?”

He huffs a short laugh. “You asked me about the universe and a higher power,” he says casually, as if I’d asked how he liked his eggs.

“Oh, that’s right.” It was one of the questions in the prompt list, but I don’t think I have to qualify it right now. We’re being equally comfortable and curious with each other, the drive over here filled with easy conversation and a few lingering glances.

I think about my answer and watch another jellyfish drift away. Oddly elegant things with no hearts, brains, or blood, that go on existing and serving a purpose, anyway. “I think that as I get older, I’m okay knowing that some stuff will always be beyond my understanding,” I say. “I think it’s arrogant to think the stars and moon can affect the tides but not have an effect on me. Some things are just more powerful than we are.” I shrug and lift an eyebrow at him with a sigh. “You are a Virgo, no matter what you think.”

I expect him to laugh, but he just smiles and nods considerably. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says, resigned. “I’ve been converted. I read about it more and believe more in the chart stuff these days.” He grins at me. “Virgo sun, Scorpio rising, Taurus moon, by the way.”

I smile with open-mouthed surprise. “He knows his big three now,” I muse.

“He does,” he says. “I know yours, too. Don’t always check my horoscope or anything, but I like thinking of the chart stuff as sort of default settings, I guess.” He looks away into the blue. “People are the sum of their experiences, and we all have free will, but even if itisall made up, I think it’s nice to understand a little bit ofwhywe all handle shit differently.”

That ache I feel around the Ellis-shaped corner of my heart pulses. Yesterday, I got to watch him be playful, and today, he’s a different sort of relaxed. Peaceful. He’s spent so much of his life spread thin between roles: brother, father, husband, (reluctant) leader. I love seeing him this way, like he’s allowing himself to sit and sift through his own thoughts and feelings. I want to tug him into one of the dark alcoves and kiss him like the precious thing he is, but I settle for words, this time, since he’s being free with his.

“I like seeing you like this,” I say.

He turns, blinking down at me, twin furrows between his brows. He didn’t shave, and the two days’ growth has always been my favorite look on him. Smooth and thick mustache, unkempt stubble across his chin and jaw, soft lips. Half of him is cast in sapphire blue, the other half in shadow.

He steps closer, a lick of humor teasing his mouth. “It’s the sandals, isn’t it?”

I snort. “Of course it is,” I say sagely. “But… I also like seeing you open. You’ve always been observant, good at seeing things. But you haven’t always been so… sharing.” An understatement. “Not afraid to sound silly, I guess.”

His eyes land somewhere near the shell of my ear. “Yeah, well.” His sigh ruffles my hair. “I’ve been going to therapy for a while now. Started a few months after Silas’s accident.”

I keep my expression carefully unmoved. “Yeah? You like it?”

He scoffs a chuckle. “Likeis a strong word,” he says. “I think it’s another one of those things that makes me understand why I’m feeling something, instead of like the feeling itself is controlling me.” I can’t decipher the look in his eyes while they track a path across my face. “Most feelings, anyway.” He nods over my shoulder. “Seabirds?”

“See them do what?”

“Do you want to go see the seabirds, Byrd?” he clarifies, smiling broadly, gaze crackling with mirth. I feel my ears heat and roll my eyes at myself when I turn away. We might be finding our rhythm, but clearly, I’m still a little clumsy.

We round a corner into a brighter section with benches and seating, then silently watch the puffins, common murres, and oystercatchers (who rarely eat oysters, according to the sign) swim and flit around, oblivious to the room crowding around us on all sides.

“Feeding time in five minutes,” I overhear a mom tell her toddler, lifting her to stand on the bench in front of her so she can see over the people milling in.

Ellis bumps into my back with a shortoof. “Sorry,” he says into my hair. His hands briefly land on my waist to catch himself, and I’m suddenly aware of every breath sawing in and out of me. “Do you want to stay, or you want me to get us out of here?” he asks. I wish I could turn and see his face, but I think if I did, it’d give the crowd a chance to press in closer and thereby give my hips the chance to push directly into his, front to front. My throat goes dry.

“Let’s stay.” I white-knuckle the railing in front of me as he’s bumped into my ass. He mutters a curse. “It’s all right,” I say, feigning ambivalence. Hoping he missed the slight tremor in myvoice. His hands land next to mine on the railing, caging me in, bringing us flush. I feel him suck in a deep breath and hold it.