“Merry Christmas, bro,” Truman said. “They’re giving you half an hour, so I’ll give you two some privacy.”

As he left the room, Quincy wrapped his arms around Roni again, holding her tight. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” she said through tears. When he tried to lean back so he could see her face, she held him tighter, whispering, “I’m not letting go.”

“Neither am I, babe.” He sat in a chair with her on his lap, and they held each other for a long time without saying a word. But Quincy was aware of the minutes ticking by, and he needed to see Roni’s eyes to know if she was really okay.

He drew back and framed her beautiful face between his hands, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. A knot formed in his gut at the sadness storming in her eyes. “I love my gift. Thank you for having Tru draw the pictures and write the stories, and for putting it in the book. The last picture is my favorite.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she drew her shoulders back, making a valiant effort at producing a smile, the fakeness of it tearing at him.

“Mine, too,” she said softly.

“You should open the gifts I put under the tree.” When she lowered her eyes, he lifted her chin and said, “Talk to me, baby. How are you doing? Are you going to work? Spending time with Angela or the girls? Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay. I’m going to work and seeing people for dinner.”

“Truth, baby, remember? We made a promise to be honest.”

Tears flowed down her cheeks, and a sob burst out. She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. “I’m not okay. I miss you, and I have so much anger and hatred inside me for Puck and all the things he’s done to you, to me, to that poor man he killed. I don’t know what to do with it. I’m scared I’ll never let it go.” She gasped and said, “And now I’ve spilled my guts when I should be asking about how you’re doing. I’m sorry.”

Her confession left him raw, heartbroken, and determined to help her. “Look at me, beautiful.” She leaned back, and he dried her tears. “I’m fine,” he reassured her. “I’ve got this, Roni, and I would worry about you whether you told me what’s wrong or not, because I see it. I feel it. You’re a part of me, babe, and that doesn’t stop because we’re miles apart.” He pressed his lips to hers, thinking about the ways she relieved stress and remembered how she’d said she’d danced late at night after her grandmother had passed away to push through her grief. “Are you dancing after work?”

She shook her head. “There’s no time. Everyone’s being so nice and supportive, and I thought you’d want me to be with them, so I usually go right to someone’s house when I get off.”