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we’ve both been avoiding. I clear my throat and take Derek’s hand.
    “So where are Lisa and Jason staying?”
    “They’ve got a hotel in town. She said they’re looking for an apartment, but it’s tough since she’s unemployed and broke.”
    “Let me guess who she’s expecting to help her out with that.” I try not to sound resentful, but fail.
    “We talked about it,” he concedes. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to cover some of Jason’s expenses.”
    “You live in a rat hole, Derek. Isn’t it a better idea to try to take care of yourself first?”
    He sighs. “I wish I had that choice.”
    “You know she’s going to want more than just a little help. Wanna bet she asks you to move in with her so Jason has a real father?”
    “That’s not going to happen.”
    “You sound sure, but once I’m gone…”
    I can see he’s trying to stay calm. “Give me a little more credit than that, Sage.”
    I know I’m being an asshole, and I have to struggle to stop. But I manage. Barely.
    “I know, Derek. It’s just that with everything that’s happening, with me in LA and you here…you know what I’m saying.”
    “What I know is that I want to be with you, and only you. The rest of this I’ll figure out.”
    “It couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”
    “I know. But I didn’t have any say in it, remember? I was as surprised as anyone. But now I have to deal with the fallout. It sucks, but there it is.”
    The waiter arrives with our food and I stare at it glumly. “It does suck.”
    “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll get through this. We’ve managed so far.”
    “We’re both going to be on tour pretty soon. Add that to the mix of suckiness.”
    “What are you talking about? It’s going to be awesome. You’re going to be famous.”
    “I don’t care about that, Derek. I just want to be together.”
    “We are together, Sage. We’re just together in different towns for a little while longer, and then we’ll be together, but on tour in different states. It’s not going to change anything. We’ll figure out ways to see each other. We’re not going to be playing every day.”
    “I’m still working on Terry to get you put on a leg of the tour.”
    “Which I completely appreciate. And believe me, I’m hoping as much as you are that she can do it.”
    We finish our food and walk hand-in-hand toward Columbus Circle, where we used to hang out when we were homeless. We pass a few kids playing for tips by the park, and I put a dollar in a girl’s hat. She smiles at me as we move on, her voice following us down the sidewalk.
    The afternoon fades as we walk easily through the city, and when we get south of Times Square, Derek stops in front of a storefront – a tattoo parlor. He eyes the designs in the window and, after a few moments of hesitation, takes my hand and leads me into the shop.
    “What are you doing, Derek?” I ask, but he just smiles as he approaches the proprietor, who’s covered with body art and piercings and has a braided beard with beads dangling from the ends.
    “I want to get a heart with ‘Sage’ in the middle. Right here,” he says, tapping his chest.
    “Yeah? How big?” the man asks.
    Derek shrugs. “Maybe like this?” He holds up his hand with his thumb and forefinger spaced two inches apart.
    The artist does a quick sketch and shows Derek, as he squeezes my hand.
    “How long will it take?” Derek asks, and I cut in.
    “For two of them? I want one that says Derek.” My eyes are moist. This is so like him, so unexpectedly thoughtful – it’s the perfect commitment gesture at the ideal time.
    But there’s no way he’s going to get my name emblazoned on his chest and I’m going to walk out without his branded on me somewhere.
    The familiar clacking buzz of a tattoo gun starts as I watch. An hour later Derek’s is finished and it’s my turn. I have mine done on my shoulder blade, and the pain is nothing compared to how full my heart feels.
    By the