"You're right. When I left, you were grumpy, morose Nathan. It will take me some time to adjust to happy, humming Nathan." I swallowed the knot my sudden tears made in my throat. "But I like the change."

I reached for his right hand, resting on the gearshift, and covered it with my own.. We rode the rest of the way to the apartment in silence. Though I'd only been gone a few weeks, the sight of familiar neighborhood landmarks—La Vitesse, the courthouse, the veterans' memorial, heck, even the Brandy wine Inn on the corner of our block—nearly had me dissolving in tears of relief. We parked down the street—all the convenient spots were full—and headed toward the building.

Nathan stopped me before he unlocked the outer door. "Listen, before you see the apartment—"

"It's a total nightmare of clutter and unwashed dishes?" I snorted. "Believe me, I've braced myself for this possibility before tonight."

"No, that's not it." He paused. "Well, it is a nightmare of clutter, but I washed the dishes. What I meant is, I made some changes. To your room."

"Oh." My heart sank. "What kind of changes?"

He scratched his forehead and looked down the street, as if the answer would drive up and rescue him. "Maybe it's better if you see it, and then you can scream at me. Or not."

I tried not to charge up the stairs once he got the door open, and I waited with unbelievable patience as he unlocked the one at the top. In the living room, books were scattered and stacked on every available surface. Despite his assertion that he'd washed dishes, I spotted four or five blood-crusted mugs he'd missed, and the couch seemed to have become some sort of holding pattern for laundry of indeterminate cleanliness. In the hallway, the door to my room stood open.

"Go look," he said quietly.

When I clicked on the light, the first thing I noticed was the new paint job. Somehow, Nathan had managed to cover with pale lavender the matte black walls Ziggy had preferred. My desk and computer were just as I'd left them, but a sheet of plastic speckled with paint and sawdust draped over them. Brand-new built-in bookcases lined the wall where my bed used to be.

I leaned against the doorjamb and tried to catch my breath, collect my thoughts, anything to help me comprehend without getting my hopes up too much.

"I know I was taking a chance, but I thought you needed a proper office. Or, at the very least, a place where you can get away from me when I drive you crazy." Nathan hovered behind me for a moment, then brushed past me to enter the room. He gestured to the bookcases. "I had the same contractor who fixed up the store work on this. Do you like it?"