It was probably only in my head, but the room smelled like Alex, all sweat and earth and sunshine. I switched the music to something more cheerful, too, leaving it low in case some more opera showed up in the playlist. I didn’t have time to change clothes, but there wasn’t anything better for me to wear than the pale blue sundress I was in anyway. At least the color suited me. I was in front of the mirror pulling my hair into a loose ponytail when I heard Will’s car hit the gravel on our driveway. I opened the door and met him on the porch. He was wearing a crisp white shirt and black slacks. He looked clean and new, especially out here where everything was old and grey. There was a speck of grit on his shirt, probably kicked up from our drive. I brushed it off before I thought about what I was doing. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s really dusty out here. Gets into everything.” “It’s fine,” he said. “You know, you’re always apologizing for something. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
