Seeing his more serious self-portraits, it was easy to grasp his complexity—the artsy, almost poetic parts dancing alongside the sporty, brash parts. He had visions for his future, too, little sketches for how he might arrange a small room and one of cartoon Milo holding up a drawing. I’d wanted so badly to rescue that Milo, the one that had been afraid to let those different parts of himself see the light. But what if he’d never truly needed my rescue? What then?

Speaking of rescues, there was one of Bruno too, looking heroic in his uniform. The love was apparent there, too, and I understood better than most how family ties could run deep. Jeff’s distance still hurt, and even Katie and Brenda getting their own lives was bittersweet. April would grow up someday too, need me less, but I wasn’t suddenly going to stop being her big brother. Maybe it wasn’t fair of me to ask Milo to stop caring so much about what Bruno thought of him. It mattered to Milo.

And Milo mattered to me.

Buzz. My phone vibrated on the table above me, and I unfolded my stiff body to reach for it.

Triple-check the locks. Not a word about why he’d left or where he’d gone, but he’d promised Arthur he’d remind me, so he had. My chest pinched, a deep, hard pang.

Are you okay? That was what I truly needed to know.

Yeah.

Good. There was so much I wanted to say, but none of it would fit in a text. My words would have to wait.

And I was going after him—as soon as I triple-checked the locks—but I was no longer racing to stop him from doing something stupid. Rather, I was ready to listen, really listen with my whole heart, and open my eyes and see him. Only then could I hope to actually help.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Milo

“I knew you’d come.” I didn’t look up as Jasper plopped himself down on the paver closest to where I was sitting. And I had, had known even as I shut the shop door that he’d follow. Honestly, I was surprised it had taken him this long. Perhaps more surprising was that I’d wanted him to come and had been actively missing him since about three minutes into my cold trek here. I hadn’t been lying. I had needed the walk to clear my head, sort through the muddle of emotions that had arisen during our argument. But now he was here, and I wasn’t upset to see him.

“I’m always going to come.” Like me, Jasper kept his voice down. “Even though you don’t want me—”

“I want you. I can want space and still want you to chase after me. I’m a fickle guy.”

“Not fickle. Complicated.” Even now he was loyal to me.