“I can't tell the difference," I said. "Between not fighting and giving up.”

“The front door was locked. "Here, talk to Grace," I said. "Mommy isn't going to give me a different answer than Daddy," Cole said, but I handed her the phone anyway.”

“I'm just not a good psychic. I can tell when something's not right, sometimes, but I can't tell what it is, or when it is, or if I'm supposed to do anything about it. I've tried to make it make sense, but I can't. It's just feelings instead of words.”

“[I]t just makes me tired even thinking about it. It reminds me of that feeling I had before I left. Like my lungs were made of lead. Like I can't even think about starting to care about anything. Like I either wish that they were all dead, or I was, because I can't stand the pull of all that history between us. That's before I even pick up the phone. I'm so tired I never want to wake up again. But I've figured out now that it was never them that made me feel that way. It was just me, all along.”

“Cole,” I said, “do you think I’m lovable?”“As in ‘cuddly and’?”“As in ‘able to be loved,’” I said.Cole’s gaze was unwavering. Just for a moment, I had the strange idea that I could see exactly what he had looked like when he was younger, and exactly what he’d look like when he was older. It was piercing, a secret glimpse of his future. “Maybe,” he said. “But you won’t let anybody try.”I closed my eyes and swallowed. “I can’t tell the diference between not fighting,” I said,“and giving up.”Despite my eyelids being tightly shut, a single, hot tear ran out of my left eye. I was so angry that it had escaped. I was so angry.Beneath me, the bed tipped as Cole edged closer. I felt him lean over me. His breath, warm and measured, hit my cheek. Two breaths. Three. Four. I didn’t know what I wanted. Then I heard him stop breathing, and a second later, I felt his lips on my mouth. It wasn’t the sort of kiss I’d had with him before, hungry, wanting, desperate. It wasn’t the sort of kiss I’d had with anyone before. This kiss was so soft that it was like a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it waslike a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it was like someone running his fingers along them. My mouth parted and stilled; it was so quiet, a whisper, not a shout. Cole’s hand touched my neck, thumb pressed into theskin next to my jaw. It wasn’t a touch that said “I need more”. It was a touch that said “I want this.”It was all completely soundless. I didn’t think either of us was breathing.Cole sat back up, slowly, and I opened my eyes. His expression, as ever, was blank, the face he wore when something mattered.He said, “That’s how I would kiss you, if I loved you.”

“I guess now would be a good time to tell you," He said. "I took Chainsaw out of my dreams.”

“Cole made a hissing sound. "Are you inside yet? God bless America and all her sons. What is taking you so long?" The front door was locked. "Here, talk to Grace" "Mommy isn't going to give a different answer than Daddy," Cole said, but I handed her the phone anyway.”