Mia looks at me, concerned. “Hey, all okay?”
I nod slowly and close my eyes because it would be tacky, wouldn’t it, to cry in front of her friends, especially the man she seems to like so much.
“Aiden.” There’s concern in her voice.
I rein it in. “Yeah, baby. All good.”
“You both need to stop the incessant eye fucking,” Katya interjects. “Some of us are having a dry spell.”
Cristiano rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to her, she’s just jealous.”
“Damn right, I am,” Katya agrees.
They laugh like they’ve been doing this for years. I join them, feeling included.
As we eat baklava, which makes our fingers sticky, and drink mint tea, I look over at Mia—her gray eyes shining with laughter as she talks to her friends—and I feel panic wash over me. What if she can’t forgive me?
“What happened at the restaurant?” Mia asks when we stop in front of Katya’s place.
I tell her.
She tilts her head and smiles at me. “Let me ask you something. Would you be able to forgive me?”
I don’t have to think about it. I know. “Yes, because as much as it would hurt that you wanted someone else for a moment, it would kill me to live without you.”
“You must love me more than I love you.” A playful glint softens her gaze. “Because I walked away.”
I shake my head, grasp her hand. “Mia, you said yes to my ridiculous eight-date scheme. That was you giving us a chance despite the horrible thing I did.”
She sinks back into her seat and looks out of the windshield. “I didn’t expect you to come for me, Aiden. I thought you fell in love with Diana and….” Her voice tapers off as if the words she’s saying hurt her.
I cup her face and turn it so she looks at me. The streetlights make her eyes sparkle, or maybe it’s the tears.
“I can only love you, Mia. I won’t survive being without you. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning feeling hopeful. You’re the reason I go to bed feeling like I’m worth loving. I am so sorry for how I hurt you. Please forgive me.”
She kisses my palm. “Forgive, yes. Forget, no.”
I swallow. Nod.
“And now, we move past it.” She suddenly grins, wicked and bright. “Besides, I already got my sweet, sweet revenge. Your mother nearly went to jail because of me, and your father was curled up on the floor, clutching the family jewels.”
“Never thought you were this vicious.” I stroke her lower lip with my thumb. She kisses it.
“Neither did I. If my kindergartners ever found out…especially since I keep telling them how violence isn’t the answer.”
I laugh.
Just like that, she’s made it better. My beautiful, wonderful wife.
“You want to stay the night?” she asks.
“Every night, if it’s with you,” I tell her honestly.
When we lie in bed that night, after we make love, because I needed to be inside her, be close to feel safe, she asks, “How long before Diana fucks up and we can fire her?”
A huff of laughter escapes me. “Vicious!” I murmur.
“No, really. That bitch is going to get what’s coming her way.”
