Milo would have laughed at her joke.
The next morning, when Logan was halfway across the country and she was alone once again, her phone lit up.
Hanna didn’t even have to look to know it was him—yet another infinite truth. She opened the message, her stomach tightening into a knot as a photo loaded. Someone had painted an entire field of sunflowers down by the wharf, spraying the Bay with bright yellows and oranges.
Her fingers reflexively touched the ink running along her sternum, the black petals finally healed over.
She didn’t know how Milo knew she was down to her last stop on the apology tour, but she wasn’t surprised that Lisa had something to do with it.
TWENTY-FIVE
Hanna’s phone buzzed in her hand as she tapped her foot against Olivia’s plush rug.
“I just want to respond to this real quick,” she said, holding up a finger in the middle of a thought. “I’m trying not to let texts sit these days.”
LOGAN
What time does your flight get in?
HANNA
Early, I have back-to-back salon appointments with Sara all day.
LOGAN
Let’s grab coffee when you can, want to game-plan our speeches.
Me
Sounds good! I’ll see you tomorrow.
“You seem like you’ve made a lot of progress in the last few months,” Olivia said over a mug of tea, and Hanna no longer doubted that she was right. She felt fine, but actually. Handling things with Logan had freed up a lot of her capacity to take care of herself.
She was still struggling to sleep, but she hadn’t had a panic attack in nearly eight weeks. She’d spent those weeks grouting tile, painting walls, and teaching herself to lay wooden flooring.
She’d taken up yoga.
She’d called her dad twice.
But in all the progress she’d made within herself, there was a certain Greek god she still hadn’t worked up the nerve to confront.
She’d responded to his photo, but nothing else came of it. She knew he was giving her space, that knew he was waiting for her to set the tone, and she’d settled so many scores.
Surely she could face one more.
“How are you feeling about the wedding?” Olivia asked.
Hanna knew what she was really asking—how many times have you thrown up thinking about the fact that you have five days of Milo ahead of you?
“Anxious, mostly. I’ll be spending a lot of time around Milo with nowhere to go. And things are weird because we left on somewhat vague terms. I still have so much to apologize for, but I also don’t want to make Matty and Sara’s wedding about my shit.”
“That makes sense. Do you think there will be a time, maybe beforehand, that you can sit down and just make your apology without expecting anything other than him hearing you out?”
Hanna sighed, knotting her fingers together with a tassel on one of Olivia’s soothing beige pillows.
“Yeah, I’m sure there will. That’s a good idea. Just kick the weekend off with a little groveling.”
“Your word choice, not mine,” Olivia smirked.
