“You goose,” I echo, amused as always by the term. It’s a wonderful thing, being loved by Oliver. The melancholy from earlier is gone for the moment, swept away by him like cobwebs from a porch.

It’s only when he tells me to sleep that I realize how tired I am, and I yawn as I shift a little to settle more at his side, an arm and leg thrown over him as I nuzzle into his neck. My hand rests over his Star and I fall asleep with the steady thrum of his heart against my fingertips.