Chapter 25

“I was daydreaming on the way home from Lincoln today,” Ronnie said, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “Imagining us living in some big city where I was going to school, and you were teaching science or math or working at an observatory, and we could be together without anyone giving us lectures about all the mistakes we’d made in our lives and all the ways we’d disappointed them. I dare you to tell me that doesn’t sound terrific.”

“It does.” And when he was gazing up at all those silvery pinpricks, reminders of worlds and experiences and creatures that had been long gone before he was even born, it actually seemed feasible. “I just don’t know if I can risk it all again.”

“You did it for me. When you came to visit.” He was smiling when Jim looked at him again. “Why not do it for your second love, too?”

Stated like that, it seemed so simple. Who knew? Maybe it actually was.

“I can’t make any promises. But I can tell you I’ll try.”