“Is there a time?” he asked. “I’m not sure.”
“My husband, who’s an old man now, used to say ‘breakfast is the most important meal of the day.’ But I’ve never found out when it should be.” She laughed. “And why exactly are you eating breakfast?”
He shrugged his shoulders again. “I have no idea.” He pulled her up off the floor and held her close for a moment before pushing away from him with one hand while holding on to her possessively with the other. His face was just inches from hers as he said very softly, but very firmly: “It’s your fault that I can’t sleep at night; don’t take this lightly—it has nothing whatsoever to do with our relationship or anything like that—but I can’t get my mind off you anymore than it already is, so…” He gave another shrug and turned his back on her; she lay down beside him once more and closed her eyes tightly against the tears building up behind them.
Deena looked over at Grady several minutes later as he sat at their kitchen table sipping coffee in silence while she readied herself for work by changing into overalls and pulling out what few things they’d brought along two days ago when they’d fled their home together after watching Danny die in front of them all those years ago…and even further back than that…all those centuries ago…. All those millennia!