“You don’t mind if I hang out with you and your mom, right?” He raises a brow.
“I want you to,” I whisper, smiling.
“Tomorrow afternoon, you want to come over to my place? It’ll just be me and my parents and brothers. Charlotte won’t be there, which is too bad. I really want you to meet her.”
The tears threaten yet again. He wants me to be with his family. And he wants to spend time with my mother. Oh God, this is serious. “I want to meet her too.”
Of course, it’s serious. He bought a painting that cost him well over five hundred thousand dollars. Maybe even a million. I know he’s a Lancaster and that is probably like, twenty dollars to him, but still.
What he’s done for me is just…no one has ever made me feel so special.
So loved.
“Thank you again for my gift,” I say again, hating how meaningless my words feel. “I absolutely love it.”
“You’re welcome.” The look on his face is one I’ve never seen before, and I wish I could take a photo so I’d have it forever. “Happy Birthday, Birdy.”