“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

The phone is shuffled. “Ty,” Otter says. “We’ll be here. When it’s done. You call us so we know when you get there. You call us so we know it’s over. You call us, and I swear to you, if you need us, we’ll come running and we’ll take you home and remind you what real family is. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, Otter. I understand.”

“And I love you too,” he says. “And we’re so very, very proud of the man you’ve become.”

“Back at you, big guy.” This man. My almost-father.

I hang up the phone, and for the first time in a very long time, I allow myself to cry.

THERE’S STILL an hour until we’re supposed to leave. Maybe I can get a bit of sleep.

I slide into the bed, careful not to wake Dom. But as soon as I lay my head on the pillow, a big arm wraps around my waist and pulls me across the bed. My back rests against his warm body, and he holds me tight. His breath is on my hair, and I never knew it could be like this.

“Not alone,” he rumbles at me.

“I know,” I tell him. “You’re here.” For how long, I don’t know. But I’ll take it while it lasts. I raise his hand and kiss his palm. Just once. I set it back down against me.

“No,” he says. “You’re not going alone. To Idaho. I’m going with you, and that’s final.”

“How did you…?”

“Light sleeper. Thin walls.” He presses his face into my hair and breathes deep. He scrapes his lips against my neck. Just once. I shiver. “If you’re doing this for me, then I’m doing it for you. It’s time you realize that.”

“Dom. I….” I don’t know what I’m trying to say. So many things still need to be said, and I can’t decide which is the most important.

“Later,” he says. “We’ll figure the rest out later. Now get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Friends until we’re old and gray. Beginning to end, day after day. It’s this thought I have as sleep chases me.

And for the very first time, I fall asleep in his arms. It feels like coming home.

23. Where Tyson Hears the Inevitable

WE GET a late start because Dom thought I needed to sleep more. He’s probably right, especially with what we’re driving toward. The plan is to drive straight through without stopping, taking turns driving while the other sleeps. It’s fifteen hundred miles and twenty-two hours, and I don’t want it to take any more time than it has to.

Dom’s told me not to worry about his job. He’s gotten a few more days extended to him. Apparently, people owe him some favors and will cover his shifts. I still worry, of course. He’s doing this because of me. I don’t want it to be for nothing.

“It’ll be fine,” he tells me as he puts our bags in the back of the SUV.