I never kept up with any of the school gossip, but it was a distraction, and Reese kept the conversation moving easily from topic to topic as we refilled our glasses throughout the evening. We reminisced on old times, caught up on stories from college and the years since, made plans for the spring concert - we talked about any and everything other than what, or rather who, had made me cry all day.
I was thankful to Reese for that.
Somewhere around ten, we ended up at his piano.
He played the piece he'd been working on, a slow and heartbreaking melody in honor of his family. Watching as he settled in behind the piano brought back a flood of memories.
So many mornings I'd woken up at his house to the sound of him playing, tiptoeing my way into their dining room to spy on him. He always knew I was there, though - and he'd stop after a song or two and put the lid down on the piano, tapping it with his hand so I'd hop on top to listen.
Reese always put so much emotion into his music, so much heart - it was absolutely captivating to watch.
That hadn't changed, I realized, as he began the first few notes of the new song. His eyes were closed for most of the song, his fingers feeling along the keys, brows furrowed in a mixture of concentration and what felt like an insurmountable amount of pain. It was as if he'd taken on the task of writing the theme song for loss. It was so beautiful, so touching, and so real that I started crying again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered when he finished, his eyes finding mine from where I sat on top of his piano. I knew having the lid down would warp the sound a little, but I wanted to watch his face as he played - just like I used to.
"Don't be." I swiped the tears from my cheeks, laughing at my ridiculousness. "It's just beautiful, that's all. You've always had such a gift."
Reese smiled, but shrugged modestly. "I'm nothing special, just another guy pouring his heart into music. More wine?"
"Please."
I should have said no, seeing as how we'd already gone through one bottle and opened a second. But the wine was helping the ache in my chest, and Reese was making me smile.
I didn't want either to stop.
I followed Reese into the kitchen this time, raiding his cabinets until I found a bag of pretzels. I popped one in my mouth as he poured another glass of wine for each of us.
"Want me to heat up those tacos? Are you hungry?"
I shook my head, tossing another pretzel in my mouth. "No, just wanted a little snack."
"Are you tired?"
"Not even close. You?"
"No." He took a sip of his wine, sliding my glass toward me. "Let's make a fort."
"What?"
"A fort. Like the one we made when we were kids. I've got a shit ton of sheets my old roommate sent with me."
I laughed, shaking my head and opening my mouth to list off reasons why building a fort was an absolutely ludicrous idea. But then I realized I didn't have one. Reese watched my wheels turn, a lazy grin on his face.
///
It reminded me of the last night we'd spent together at his old house, of the way he'd looked at me in those final hours of the going away party.
There was something behind his eyes, something unspoken that called to me in a way I couldn't explain. We were like two magnets in a constant pull, fighting the urge to connect.
"We're in our thirties," I tried, but it only made Reese laugh at the sad attempt.
"Who cares? That only means we can fasten the sheets to higher places. Come on."
Reese grabbed my hand not wrapped around my wine glass and pulled me back to the living room. I couldn't protest, couldn't do anything other than laugh and try to ignore the warmth that spread through me at the feel of his hand in mine.
He left me standing in the middle of his living room as he disappeared down the hall, and seconds later, he emerged with an arm full of mismatched sheets. He threw them at me, knocking a bit of my wine out of the glass as they fluttered open, and then he was gone again. This time, he returned with pillows from his bed and an old sleeping bag. He tossed those to my feet next.
"You made me spill my wine."
"It'll wash. Come on, grab a sheet. This fort won't build itself."
We laid down the sleeping bag and pillows in the middle of the floor first, building the fort up and around them. We spread the sheets from the top of the couch to the top of the TV, from the corner of his coffee table to one of the kitchen bar stools we'd pulled in, and from the top of his recliner chair to the mantle of the electric fireplace. Reese grabbed two standing lamps from his bedroom to hold up the middle section of sheets, creating a circus-type ceiling over the sleeping bag. Once it was complete, we grabbed our wine and crawled inside, both lying back with our sock-covered feet close to the fireplace, heads on the pillows, eyes on the sheets above.
I leaned up long enough to take a big gulp of wine before I sat it carefully to the side, lying down next to Reese again. I didn't realize how tipsy I was until we'd leaned back the first time. The wine was buzzing low and warm in my stomach, mixing with the heat from the fireplace and lulling me into a comfortable stupor.
Reese's home turned out to be the perfect escape.
"I love this," I said, smiling and pressing a cold hand to my warm cheeks. I was flushed, but I didn't mind.
"Makes you think of easier times, huh? Simpler days."
"When the only thing that mattered was whether my Barbie dolls had enough shoes."
"And what shirt to wear to Drew Castelberry's party."
I snorted. "You and Graham both always took forever to get dressed for parties. I remember Mallory and I making fun of you."
"You were, like, eleven when I started going to parties," Reese argued. "You didn't understand the importance of spin the bottle yet."
"In my defense, I still didn't at sixteen."
At that, Reese leaned up to take a drink of his wine, all the while shaking his head. "That literally makes no sense to me. I thought Graham would be kicking every guy's ass in that high school trying to keep them off you."
"You're joking, right?" I rolled over to face him as he laid back down. "Do you not remember? Pig tails, glasses, fresh out of braces, nose always stuck in a book. Not exactly girlfriend material."
Reese leaned up on one elbow to mirror me, his eyes low and glossy as they found mine. "Trust me, I remember."
He said the words slowly and purposefully, like there was a hidden message underneath them meant for me to decipher. And suddenly, the energy in the fort changed. It was too warm. He was too close.
He was too familiar.
I pulled my hair from my neck, letting it fall behind my shoulders. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm just looking at you."
"No one else looks at me that way."
He swallowed, but his gaze didn't waver. His eyes flashed between mine, and when they fell to my lips, he ripped them away so fast I thought I imagined it.
"I'm sorry about your anniversary."
A sickening wave rolled through me, and I shook my head. "It's fine. It's my fault, you know … I'm the reason he's like this now."
"Like what?"
"I don't know, forgetful. Apathetic. He didn't used to be like this." I leaned up to finish off my wine, settling back down with my eyes on the sheets above us. I don't think I realized I felt that way about Cameron until the second the words left my mouth. "He used to be romantic, and caring. He loved me so much, more than I loved him, I think. He was perfect."
///
"No one is perfect."
"He was."
"And now it's your fault he's not anymore?" Reese asked.
I shrugged. "I failed him. I couldn't carry our babies into a healthy birth, couldn't give our children the strength to make it to life. Something changed after we lost them." My chin quivered, but I blew out a breath to stop more tears from coming. "Something changed in both of us."
"Charlie … " Reese breathed my name like the truth I'd given him in my words was poison to his system. "You can't really believe that. It's not your fault, what happened."
"Ugh," I groaned, blinking my eyes several times to clear the blur. "New topic. I don't want to talk about this."
He watched me for a long moment, and I glanced at him briefly before reiterating.
"Please. New topic."
"New topic?"
"Yes."
"Fine. Do you ever think about me?"
My heart stopped, kicking back to life with enough force to hitch my breath. "What?"