After we signed off, I sat back in my chair, letting the warmth of their story wash over me. I pressed record on my final audio clip.
“And that’s it for today’s episode, listeners. If there’s one thing I took away from Mioko, Luke, and Eli’s story, it’s that love doesn’t always follow the script we think it should. Sometimes the most beautiful connections are the ones we never saw coming. As always, I’m Aimee Hale, and this has been The Aimee Position. Until next time, keep your hearts open and your communication honest—you never know who might be waiting to love you exactly as you are.”
I clicked stop and sat in silence for a moment, a strange longing settling in my chest. I’d built a career helping others navigate their love lives, but my own had been on pause for longer than I cared to admit.
Chapter 20
Luke
I stood on theporch, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as I watched the summer sun dance across Lake Ambervale. And okay, maybe I was really watching for Mioko’s van. She’d been gone for four days at a craft fair in Burlington, and the apartment felt hollow without her chaos, her laughter, her colors spilling across every surface. After five months of living together, I couldn’t imagine my world without her in it.
“You’re hovering again,” Eli’s deep voice rumbled behind me as his arms slid around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. “She texted twenty minutes ago. Said she was turning off the highway.”
“I’m not hovering,” I protested weakly. “I’m... appreciating the view.”
“Bullshit.” He nipped at my earlobe, making me shiver.
I leaned back against his chest, allowing myself to be enveloped in his comforting warmth. “Don’t lie; you’re out here for the same reason.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, laughing. “But look, even Rambo is waiting.” He pointed to the dog, who was sound asleep and snoring on the porch of the inn.
“There!” I said suddenly, spotting the familiar blue Sprinter van turning onto the gravel drive that led to the Honeyfern Inn. “She’s back.”
We watched from the window as Mioko’s van rattled to a stop, and she hopped out. Even from this distance, I could see the exhaustion in the slope of her shoulders as she stretched, arms raised overhead, her dark hair catching the light.
“Come on,” Eli said, already tugging me by the hand.
We tumbled down the stairs like eager puppies, waking Rambo, who leapt up and followed us to the van.
Mioko turned, her tired face transforming instantly into a brilliant smile. She was beautiful.
She batted our hands away as we went to hug her. “I have to unload before we can...”
“Tell us you missed us first,” Eli commanded softly, sweeping her into his arms as Rambo sniffed at her feet.
“So much,” she admitted, reaching for me. “I kept seeing things I wanted to show you both. Kept turning to tell you something only to remember you weren’t there.”
I moved behind her, my hands sliding around both of hers. We were connected, all three of us.
“Never again,” I said, snuggling close. “Next event, we’re coming with you. Setting up a booth right next to yours.”
“Oh yeah? What would you sell? Marketing advice?” Mioko asked.
“We’ll sort out the logistics later.”
Eli stepped in. “But for now, let’s go upstairs. We have some ideas about how to welcome you home.”
Her eyebrow arched, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Do tell.”
Instead of answering, Eli scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry that made her shriek with surprised laughter. I led the way up the stairs and into our apartment, with Rambo barking at Eli’s heels, then back to the bedroom—our bedroom, with its ridiculously oversized custom bed.
At the doorway, Eli paused, Mioko still giggling over his shoulder. Rambo must have known we’d be distracted because he flopped down on the rug in front of the fireplace and went back to sleep.
“I bet you two never thought you’d end up as husbands sharing a girlfriend,” Mioko snorted as Eli tossed her onto the bed. She bounced, laughing.
Her words sent a jolt of pleasure through me—not just at the reminder of tomorrow’s ceremony, where Eli and I would make it official, but at the casual way she claimed her place in our relationship.
“It’s a commitment ceremony,” I said. “In my mind, we’ll all be married.”
