Chapter 14
January 7, 2025
When I wake up, I’m naked.
“What the ...?” I mutter to myself right as the sleep fog dissipates. And that’s when I notice Milo isn’t in bed.
I start to sit up and blink furiously in the dimness of early morning. I frown when I spot the white Christmas tree lights hanging around the bed. A second later, as I wake up even more, I spot the Christmas decorations I set out every year in the bedroom: a cute Santa figurine on the nightstand and a mini fake Christmas tree in the windowsill.
As the sleep fog dissipates, I remember that it’s the first week in January. I always leave the Christmas tree decorations out until this week.
But that doesn’t explain why I’m naked this morning.
Just then I hear soft clanking through the bedroom door. Milo must be doing something in the kitchen.
My bladder is aching, so I crawl out of bed and spot my pajama top, which is in a pile on the floor in front of the bed. I throw it on and scurry to the bathroom, pee, wash my hands, then step back into the bedroom right as Milo opens the bedroom door, mug of tea in hand.
He stops when he sees me, a hesitant look on his face. “Hey.”
His voice is soft and low and gravelly like it always is this early in the morning. But his expression is off. His mahogany eyes are shy. He’s hesitating.
“Bedside tea service?” I joke.
The corner of his mouth hooks up in a crooked smile. “Yeah. Figured it would be a good way to make amends.”
“Make amends?” I almost say, “For what?” but I catch myself. There’s no rational way to explain that I’m living life backward, and I have no idea what went down between the two of us.
He shrugs. “I know you said last night that everything is good between us, but I had to do something. I was kind of a jerk.”
Oh. We must have had an argument.
I think about the days that I’ve already lived—the days that technically come after today. Nothing felt off. Whatever we went through, we must resolve the last of it today.
He steps toward me, closing the space between us. He sets the steaming tea mug on the nightstand, grabs me gently by the waist, and pulls me into him. He presses his lips to my forehead.
“I’m sorry, Riley.”
For a moment I’m tense. It’s hard not to be when I don’t really know what’s going on. But a beat later, it’s like my body knows exactly what to do. I feel my muscles relax. I start to sink into Milo’s embrace.
It’s like my body is able to gauge what’s going on before my brain can process it.
My body is saying this hug, this embrace from Milo, is safe. It’s all okay.
“It’s okay,” I say out loud.
His body relaxes under my embrace.
He pulls away before flashing a tender smile down at me.
“Breakfast?” he asks.
I nod. “That sounds nice.”
I grab my tea mug and follow him into the kitchen. As I lean on the island and sip my tea, Milo cooks for the two of us. I watch him as he moves effortlessly through the kitchen. The expression on his face is relaxed and easy.
I think of the night when he admitted he called me his wife to a stranger and felt guilty about it, how we resolved it before falling asleep. I think about how we seem to work out whatever problems we have quickly. I think about how Milo is direct yet kind when he’s bothered by something. He doesn’t push his feelings aside and instead comes to me to try to work out whatever we’re going through.
It’s so different from what I was used to with Tristan. Because Tristan and I hardly ever fought or disagreed. But now I realize that wasn’t a good thing. We never fought because he hid all the awful things he did to me. And because I pushed aside my hurt feelings whenever his mom or grandparents insulted me.
I think of my own parents—how much they fought about everything while they were married. In most of my memories of them, they were arguing, over bills, money, spending time with us, chores, visiting relatives, how to raise my brother and me. I told myself I’d never marry someone if we argued all the time.
That’s probably why I thought Tristan and I were so solid. We never fought. I thought no fighting and arguing automatically meant a healthy relationship. But it doesn’t, not always. Not when you’re hiding things from your partner. I sip my tea as I think over what I’m about to wake up to in the morning. Milo looks up from the stove and flashes an easy smile. I smile at him in return, feeling calm. Whatever it is, we work through it. It’s all okay.