She pulls one boot on, then the other. Her face is calm. She looks tired, mostly. Understandable, given everything that’s happened in the last few days.
“Thank you,” I say. I tilt her chin up toward me and kiss her gently. “Let’s go upstairs and be happy.”
“Oh, my life / Is changin’ every day / In every possible way / And oh, my dreams”
— “Dreams” by The Cranberries
The next morning, I wake to the sound of typing. My bedroom is flooded with limp, gray morning light, barely enough to see. It must still be early. I look around and see that Jillian is cross-legged on the bed beside me, laptop balanced on her knees, hair piled into a messy knot on top of her head. She’s still wearing my T-shirt, with lacy lilac panties underneath. Her fingers are flying fast across the keyboard, her brow f
