Ultraviolet ✔️

19.1

Chapter Nineteen

"You know he's absolutely crazy about you, right?" Mallory asks me as we're doing the dishes.

I reach into the hot, soapy water and grab another plate to scrub. "I guess."

"The entire time we were eating dinner he was stealing glances at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He's absolutely smitten, Violet. There's no guessing about that."

As I hand her the dish to dry, I fight a smile. "He's just being Joel."

"Mmhmm," she hums. "So how long have you two known each other?"

"A few weeks, but it feels like longer," I say. "Time moves faster at the NYPD. I'm an intern and I got to work a case with him and a friend of mine a while ago. He's definitely one of the best they've got. He's a great detective. We spent so much time together that I feel like I know him really well."

"If it wasn't so soon into the relationship I would have you try on my old wedding dress," she jokes, playfully elbowing me.

"I don't know that either of us is really thinking that far ahead yet," I say sheepishly.

She lowers her voice. "Between you and me, I would say he is. I've never been introduced to one of his girlfriends before. Part of it is the fact he lived across the country for so long, but part of it is just he never felt the need to even call and tell me about one. He's serious about you."

"I'm serious about him too, but I don't want to rush any more than we already have. Everything is so crazy, y'know?"

"Tell me about it," Mallory replies. "I'm about to have two teenagers here pretty soon. Avalon's birthday is in a few weeks. I can't believe it's almost here. This whole year has been a whirlwind."

"I know that feeling."

With that, I reach into the murky water and lift the plug to drain the sink. There's something so mundane about doing the dishes that I can't help but enjoy. It'd been a while since I'd done a household chore.

"Thank you for the help," Mal says for the billionth time. "Getting Avalon and Daniel to do anything is hard enough. It's nice to have an assistant."

"It's really no problem, Mallory," I assure her.

Joel and the kids are lounging around in the living room when we emerge from the kitchen. Avalon is asleep with her head resting on his shoulder and Daniel is curled up beside him watching a sitcom I'm unfamiliar with.

It's obvious how much they love him and it's obvious how much he loves them. I can't help but think that he would be an amazing father. It's hard for me to imagine having kids myself, but Joel is the type who was born to be a dad.

I hope he gets to be, one day.

When he sees us standing in the doorway, he slowly untangles himself from the kids. He gets up with such gentleness, trying not to disturb them too much. As he moves beside me, I lean into him.

"Ready to go to bed?" he asks, seeing how exhausted I am.

"Yeah," I say, turning to Mallory. "Thank you for having us."

She beams, dimples and all. "Thank you for coming. I don't see Joel nearly enough and I couldn't wait to meet the girl he was spending all that time with."

Joel kisses her on the cheek as we head for the stairs. "See you tomorrow morning, Mal."

Mallory waves. "Sleep well."

Once we're in the guest room, I fall face-first onto the bed and groan. "I feel like a zombie. No, worse. I'm so tired I can barely think straight."

Joel chuckles as he takes off his belt, dropping it onto the floor with a small thud. "Sounds like it's time to turn in."

I watch him fold his jeans and leave them at the foot of the bed. He turns off the light, and I move over to make room, burrowing under the covers. His bare arms are warm as he pulls me closer.

I'm still not used to having someone else lying beside me, but I do enjoy the weight of him on the other side of the bed, our legs entangled under the blankets. He draws me in until my back is resting against his chest and I can feel him inhaling and exhaling. We don't talk. We don't have to. Just being with one another is enough.

"You still awake?" I murmur into the darkness.

His nose rubs against the back of my neck. "Just thinking."

"What are you thinking about?" I ask.

"You," he replies. "I've been trying to figure out what the deal is with this whole power thing. I can't help but wonder where it came from, how it works. Do you ever wonder if there are other people like you?"

"Sometimes," I admit. "But at the same time, I hope there aren't. It's not a gift, it's not something I would wish for anyone. It's put a target on my back and only caused more trouble than it's worth."

"I think it's amazing," he confesses. "Even if it feels like a curse, it's what makes you who you are."

I rest my palm on top of the hand he has on my stomach, lining my fingers up with his. "In all of this, I've been thinking about how it brought me to you. Even if it feels like hell sometimes, you've been the only good thing that's come from it."

I don't have to look at him to know he's got the corners of his lips lifted up. "God, sweetheart, if you keep saying things like that I might have to keep you around forever."

Falling asleep with those words still rattling inside my brain keeps the nightmares away for once in a long while, but the same thing doesn't extend to Joel.

I wake up in the middle of the night to him thrashing in bed beside me.

He's covered in sweat, shaking and muttering in his sleep. I make out my name, which comes out as a whimper as though he's in terrible pain. For a second, I don't know what to do. I'm frozen in surprise and fear as he cries out.

I prop myself up on one elbow, at a loss for what to do at first. He says my name again, and it's such a heart-wrenching sound that I feel my heart break a little.

"Hey," I whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek. "Hey, Joel. Joel, it's me. I'm here—"

I start shaking him, trying to wake him up so that he doesn't have to suffer through this terrible dream any longer. "Hey, hey, I'm here. I'm here, Joel. Joel, wake up."

Suddenly, he stops, and his green eyes snap open, still darting about in panic. He's trying to catch his breath. We don't say anything at first, just waiting for the fear to pass. Finally, he buries his face in my collarbone, still trembling in my arms.

"It's okay," I say to him, as much as to myself. "It's gonna be okay."

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to say to you?" he manages to utter.

For once, I'm the one supporting him, holding him steady. It's an interesting change of pace.

"You wanna talk about it?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Not particularly."

"You said my name," I point out.

He gives me a quizzical look. "Did I?"

I cock my head at him, then look over at the clock. It's almost four in the morning, and neither of us is really in the capacity to focus on much of anything at the moment. So I decide not to press him on it.

We curl back up under the blankets, but this time I can feel his racing heart. He's not okay, even though he's assuring me otherwise.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs.

"Night, Joel."