“We did. I know I can’t change what I did, but I hope this will tell you I want to see you happy again.”
“It…helps,” Ryan replied, briefly touching Merrick’s hand. It was the first time since that night he had purposely touched him. When they’d bumped into each other, while fixing meals, Ryan had pulled away as if he’d been burned. It was something he knew Merrick noticed, and seemed upset about, but Ryan couldn’t help it. He was still afraid of him.
“How are the drawing coming along?” Merrick asked as they ate their dessert—sitting across the table, rather than next to each other as been their usual practice.
Ryan paused before replying, and then said, “You’re welcome to come up and take look at them. I think they’re pretty good, for being so different from my usual style.”
“I was afraid, if I did, you’d tell me to get out.”