I woke in the night to find Dylan’s side of the bed empty and felt the old panic rise before I heard him moving in the kitchen.
“Dylan?”
His voice came back low. “I’m here. Couldn’t sleep.”
I pulled on a robe and found him standing at the counter with a glass of water. The only light came from the hall.
“You scared me,” I said.
“I didn’t mean to.” He set the glass down. “I woke up and started thinking, and then I couldn’t stop.”
I sat at the table. “Thinking about what?”
He stayed standing. “About which one of us goes first. About what the other one is supposed to do after that. About how little control we have over any of it.”
The words sat heavy in the quiet room. I folded my hands to keep them still.
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” I said. “I just usually wait until morning
