That boost of optimism subsided when Van Orden dropped me off in front of my dark apartment. It was after midnight and I couldn't even look forward to a good night's sleep.

I begrudgingly opened the door, and barely a step later, I realized there was someone in my bed.

My panic attack was thankfully short-lived. I zoned in on a familiar breathing pattern, and hanging off the side of my pillow was long, wavy hair.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her cheek. My touch was enough to wake her. As she rolled onto her back, I switched on the bedside lamp. She gave me a sad smile. I cupped the side of her face and rubbed my thumb over the bandage on her temple. For a few moments, we gazed into each other's eyes as we tried to find the words to say.

"I'm sorry to show up again," she said with the promise of tears in her voice. "I was sitting on your steps in the rain and the lady upstairs let me in. I said I was your girlfriend. I hope you don't mind."

"No." I caught the first of her tears with my thumb and wiped it away. "I'm the only one who should apologize. I keep fucking up and you keep coming back. And I have no idea why."

She sat up and kissed me. She stopped before I was ready, but her head stayed close. Our foreheads touched. Then we fell into an embrace. "I'm already falling for you. That's why. And I know something happened to you. Maybe a lot of things. I want to know more. I want you tell me, but I won't ever pry."

I tightened my pull. There was probably some magic mixed in with arm strength. But I didn't care. And she didn't seem to notice what was inadvertently flowing out of me.

When I found it in myself to let go and let her breathe, I undressed and climbed into bed beside her. We adjusted ourselves into a spot that felt natural—me on my back, her on her side with her head on my chest, hand on my stomach. And I finally felt comfortable enough to open up to her as much as I could. "I had a family. A big one actually. And now they're all dead. It's not a happy story. I'm not the culprit or anything. . ."

"I know," she said so simply, giving me a hot chill.

It was the light touch of her lips to my neck. The tiny squeeze she gave me. Above all, it was her faith in me and the relief coursing through as a result.

"Thanks. That means a lot to me. Even so, there are things I could have done differently. And that'll always be there to haunt me. The same can be said about the ones who are to blame. They're out there. Somewhere. Looking for me. That should explain a few things."

"It does. I wasn't thinking along those lines. I was being careless. And I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Don't be. How were you to know? Luckily, nothing bad will happen anytime soon, it seems. But there will always be the possibility. That's all I want you to know right now. Can you accept this? I understand if you can't. . . ."

She nodded and we just held each other for a while, self-destructing, together this time.

We fell asleep like that. And for the first time in a while, my rest was satisfying and blissfully dream free.

I woke up to a crack of sunshine and a frisky girl on top of me as soon as my sluggish, night-owl eyes opened. She pulled off her snug T-shirt. And there I was . . . pinned . . . flummoxed . . . speechless.

Then we started the morning off right . . . twice, all before morning coffee. I didn't think a Sunday could get any better. But, then again, Skylar did have a knack for improving upon perfection.

~~~

The Byrds. Turn! Turn! Turn! (1965)

https://youtu.be/W4ga_M5Zdn4