“Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.” Tears well, but I blink them away as Jagger sits in front of me on the computer and makes funny faces at Vince through the screen.
He finally called—or even better, he FaceTimed so I can see his handsome face. So I can be reassured by the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips. So I can see what Simone saw.
He looks good. Content. Like the same Vince who left here but with less of the world weighing on him.
Maybe all this worrying was for nothing.
Maybe I was right to finally trust him. Trust that he’s coming back to me.
Maybe—
“Hey, Shug?”
“Yes. Sorry.” I smile and even through the connection, I know he can see the relief and love in my eyes. “What?”
“The two weeks hasn’t turned into a month.”
I nod, not trusting my voice. Not wanting to show Jagger the worry I’ve hidden from him this whole time. “Okay.”
“I’m glad you decided to stay at the house. In Washington.”
“We did.” I couldn’t bear to be the one who walked away with so much at stake. “We stayed.” I smile through the lone tear that slips over. “I’m still fighting.”
“Me too,” he whispers. “Don’t plan on me ever stopping. Be home in a few days.”
Our eyes hold before Jagger demands more attention, pulling laughter from us. And for the first time in thirteen days, I feel like I can finally stop holding my breath.
Home.
Is that what this is? Because right now, home feels like wherever he is . . . and he isn’t here.
But he will be soon.
