I swat his chest, feeling light and happy all of a sudden. Nora is right. He is the one. He makes me laugh. He gives me joy. He is not hard and callous and difficult like his baby brother. He is not San Francisco. Filthy and hilly, with a subway—one of the worst inventions in human history (there is absolutely no freaking way I’m ever getting on a subway).

“I’ll teach you biology too,” I promise.

“Thanks, Teach.”

For the next couple of days, Dom and I eat mofongo, hit the casinos, and have lots and lots of sex. By the time we get on the plane home, I feel more connected to him. More sure of our relationship. Yes, Joe was a plot twist. A bitter reminder of what could have been. Of the past. I’d lost my footing when we reconnected, but I’m back on the horse. I’m not going to let Joe mess with my happiness again. Next time we talk, I’ll be the one encouraging him to date Presley. Maybe we could even double date. Nip all the doubts in the bud.

The universe provides, and after we land back home, we catch a cab instead of having Joe pick us up. I don’t ask why Joe hasn’t arrived to collect us. Dom explains, anyway.

“It’s Mom’s birthday tomorrow. The big six-oh. Joe’s in Dover for the long weekend. I know I’m springing this on you last minute, but would you mind very much if we head over there tomorrow evening for dinner? I know it’ll mean a lot to her.”

“Of course!” I beam at him.

“Thanks.” He picks up my hand and kisses my knuckles.

When we get to Salem, I ask the driver to drop me off first. I need to make sure Loki is okay. In the apartment, I find a note on the fridge from Nora.

Sleeping @ Colt’s

Hope you had fun in PR.

Love you xoxo

I pluck it and throw it in the trash on my way to find Loki. Nora has been feeling a lot less guilty about spending time with Colt. I’m happy for them. To be honest, I no longer feel like I’m drowning. It would probably be okay if she moved out at the end of the month. I make a mental note to actively encourage her to do so.

I find Loki sprawled in my bed. He stares at me with great enthusiasm, which for a cat means he blinks at me once, to acknowledge my presence in the room. When I reach to stroke him, he gives me his belly and tilts his chins up so I can rub his throat the way he likes.

“Missed me?” I ask tiredly. He rolls his eyes, stands up, and exits the room.