JULIAN

I thought about what you did when you wanted something to survive.

Nate smiled into his drink.

I looked at him.

"Don't," I said.

"I'm not saying anything," Nate said.

"You're smiling into your drink."

"I'm appreciating it," Nate said. "Privately."

"Nate."

Nate looked up.

The smile was still there. Not a teasing smile, nothing pointed about it. The specific warm quiet smile of a man who was genuinely glad about something, who was watching something good happen to someone he had cared about for eighteen years and was registering it with the full appreciation it deserved.

"She's extraordinary," he said. Quietly. Not event-voice. Real-voice. The voice Nate used...