“Is that a yes?”
“You’re relentless, it’s true, and it makes me feel special.” Hattie sniffs in mock conceit. “I like feeling special.”
“Say the word, Hattie.” I grab her hand. “I need to hear it to know I’m not dreaming.”
“Yes,” Hattie replies. “I’ll come to Boston and be part of the S.A.S.S. founding team.”
We all squeal and hug with laughter.
“You’re not at all freaking out?” Posey asks as she squeezes my middle.
“I think I’m still processing.” I laugh, high from knowing both of the girls are coming East with me. “I’ll freak out eventually, don’t worry.”
“Uh, that doesn’t make me not worried.” Posey lifts her head and blinks at me.
“I’ll be fine,” I promise, eyes wandering back to the door. “I’m more worried about Michael at the moment.”
“You want to call him?” Hattie offers. “Posey and I can go get coffee for a couple of hours.”
“Cocktails,” Posey corrects.
“It isn’t even noon.” Hattie glares at her, then looks at me with a shake of her head.
“So?” Posey scoffs and folds her hands, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, fair point.” Hattie sighs, slumping back. “It’s not like I have anywhere else I need to be this weekend.”
“Like on Zane’s private plane on your way to a dreamy vacation in Europe?” I wiggle my eyebrows while Hattie gives me a menacing glare, and Posey rolls around with laughter. “You are never living this down. You know that, right?”
“Just call Michael already,” Hattie huffs, grabbing her phone and marching to the door, Posey rolling her eyes in amusement before following. I pick up my phone and send Michael a message, busying myself with tidying up while I wait.
Less than thirty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door, and when I open it, I find a completely different Michael from the one who left the apartment earlier. Slumped shoulders, lost gaze, solemn expression.
“Hey, Rockstar, long time no see.” He offers a small smile, and I open the door wide.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask as he wanders to the sofa, sinking heavily into it.
“No, I just want to talk to you,” he whispers. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you every day since I left.”
I sit next to him and take his hand. “I know what you mean.”
He looks down at where my palm covers his, sadness filling his beautiful eyes.
“I need you to tell me when it’s okay to freak out a bit.” He looks up at me, the fear in his gaze breaking my heart. “I’ve been keeping it together while you were in the hospital, but I’m hanging by a thread here, Lore.”
“Because of the talk with your mom?” He nods. “And the prospect of telling Trista?” He nods again. “And because of Naomi?”
The pain tears through his eyes, his head averting to the side as his face scrunches up in pain.
“I can’t stop thinking how it would have been with her.” He pulls on his nose and shakes his head, tears streaking down his face when he lifts it back to me. “Are you mad at me for thinking that?”
“No.” I move closer to him, wiping his cheeks with my thumbs, and he leans into my palm. My heart breaks for him, for the loss that still weighs so heavily on him almost a decade later.
“You know I’ll always be there for you, for our baby, right?” Michael places a soft kiss in my hand, and I squash the pang of longing. “And that you’re going to have a driver take you from place to place, or I might have a heart attack before you reach full term.”
“I forbid you to die!” I declare, and Michael laughs. “I can’t live in a prison, Mikey.”
“Not a prison. Never. Just safety measures,” he hurries to clarify, that tawny stare turning desperate and pleading. “Wherever I can make the two of you safer, let me, please, Lauren.”