“She’s recovering really well,” I tell him. “She was so happy when I showed her the picture you sent yesterday.” Then, remembering, I add, “I hope Hannah wasn’t upset about the last-minute invite. I should send her flowers or something—just to thank her.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” he says easily. “Hannah already had plans this weekend. Theodora arranged for one of theassistants to accompany me. Her presence at the event was gift enough. No flowers needed.”
“Colin,” I scold, exasperated. He can be so casually condescending sometimes.
He flashes that easy smile, the one he knows disarms me, and immediately shifts gears, telling me about the event, about people asking after me. He says we need a proper night out soon, just the two of us. That he misses taking me on real dates.
I can’t help smiling.
After we hang up, the day slips by quietly. I spend it with Alicia and Ethan. When the medication sends her to bed early and Ethan heads out with friends, I try to distract myself with research. Anything to keep from counting down the minutes until Colin comes home.
When I finally hear his footsteps, I rise without thinking, waiting at the doorway of the sunroom. He pauses when he sees me, drops his suitcase to the floor, and closes the distance between us in long, determined strides.
He lifts me into his arms, holding me tight, his voice warm against my hair. “God, I missed you so much.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, returning the embrace. He takes my mouth in his before I can utter a word. The kiss is heated, and before I quite realize it, he’s carrying me toward our bedroom, reminding me, in the soft glow of moonlight spilling across the room, just how much he’s missed me too.
I’m lying on top of Colin.
The moment we finished making love, he pulled me close, and we stayed like this. One of his hands traces slow, languid circles along my back, while the other rests on my thigh, draped over his leg, holding me there.
Earlier, we went to one of my favorite restaurants. A place we haven’t been to in ages.
Colin has been more present this week. I’m not sure if it’s because of the award Montgomery Clifford won, or if Miami simply did him good, but something about him feels lighter. More relaxed. Almost carefree. Tonight was ours, just ours, and it felt as if no time had passed since the last time we allowed ourselves something like this. We came home laughing between kisses and half-formed sentences, until laughter turned into touch and we ended up tangled in bed.
I press a kiss to his chest, and he exhales softly, content, his hand tightening gently on my thigh.
Not ready to let sleep claim us yet, I start telling him about Alicia and her best friend’s new hobbies for the summer, and their plans for when school starts again, the kind of enthusiasm that seems to change by the week. When I mention Ethan, I feel the subtle shift beneath me, the way his body tightens just slightly.
Even after all this time, some things still haven’t fully healed.
“He barely sees you,” I say gently. “You two need to reconnect. The bond is there—but if you don’t nurture it, it won’t last forever.” I lift my head and touch his face, silently asking him to look at me. “Just… think about what I said. A weekend with just the four of us. You and Ethan can have some real time together.”
He sighs, then smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “I promise I’ll try harder,” he says. “I actually think I might have an idea.”
I smile back and settle my head against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat ease me into sleep.
Ethan
I’m laughing at a video Conrad sent me, some idiot wiping out hard, when his voice cuts through the room and my good mood is gone.
I glance at the clock on my phone. 5:30 p.m. A new record for him, ever since he started working most Saturdays instead of just disappearing for a few hours.
“Ethan. You’re exactly who I wanted to talk to.” He tosses his briefcase onto the armchair. “I’ve been looking at some cars I thought you’d like. There are a few models I—”
“Don’t bother.” I push off the couch, already heading for the stairs. “I like the one I’ve been practicing with.”
“That old junker that used to be your mother’s? The one I had her trade up from?” He scoffs. “That was just to help you build confidence behind the wheel. You’re turning seventeen soon. I want to get you a car that actually suits a boy your age once you get your license next month.”
He’s already scrolling through his phone, lining up cars he assumes I’ll want. He doesn’t listen. He barely ever does anymore.
“You don’t need to waste your time,” I say flatly. “I’m keeping Mom’s car.”
His jaw tightens, his grip whitening around the phone. “As long as you live under my roof, what I say goes.”
“Fine. Whatever.” I turn toward the stairs, my chest tight. “Take Mom’s car. I’ll walk. Or bum rides. I don’t want any of the cars you’re trying to push on me.”
I’m halfway up the stairs, pissed enough to feel my eyes burn, when his voice snaps like a whip.
