“Baby,” he whispered but gave me no answer. Probably because there wasn’t one. It would happen when it happened and I just had to ride the wave of grief until it came to me.

“I see him when I close my eyes, Abel,” I told his throat. “I fall asleep and wake, because in my dreams, I see him lying there in all that blood.”

“Talk to me,” he urged.

“I am.”

“No, bao bei, about Snake. Talk to me. Tell me about him.”

I didn’t know if this was a good idea.

But still, I nestled closer, took a deep breath, and talked to my man about Snake. My father’s friend. Someone I’d known my whole life. Someone I’d laughed with. Someone who’d also been disappointed I’d dated a preppy. Someone who’d come to my high school graduation, given me a hug and a present of a gold crucifix necklace, and told me he was proud of me.

Someone who’d taught me how to play checkers when I was seven.

Someone who’d died for me when I was twenty-nine.

I kept talking, held close in Abel’s arms, tangled up in his powerful limbs, until my words drifted away and I went to sleep.

It wasn’t until later that I’d realize, when I was hurting, my man gave me just what I needed.

* * * * *

The next morning, sitting in Abel’s lap in the big chair by the window, still in my nightshirt, Abel having tugged on jeans, I listened to him talk as I stared at the sea.

I didn’t say anything. Too much was in my head—what had happened the day before and all he was telling me.

I still didn’t say anything when he was done.

He let me have my silence until he was finished letting me have my silence.

“Lilah?” he called, his arms giving me a squeeze.

“We’re destined to save the world?” I asked.

“Apparently,” he answered.

“Yeesh,” I muttered.

“It’s a lot to take in, pussycat.”

He could say that again.

“It sucks. But one thing about it doesn’t suck. It brought you to me,” he stated, and I closed my eyes.

God, he liked me. He really, really liked me.

That was good since I felt the same.

I opened my eyes. “You’re good at finding the silver lining.”

He gave a soft, short chuckle.

It, too, was heavenly.

Then he said, “I gotta know you’re processing this ’cause I gotta brief our families about that shit.”

“I’ll go with you,” I told him and got another squeeze of his arms.