She sighed.
“But I still think you should insist that Michael go to therapy with you before you get married if it’s important to you. Ask Elijah to help you convince him.”
“Yeah… maybe.”
When I pulled into the parking lot the next day, Elijah was leaning against the trunk of his car, hands crossed low in front of him, waiting for me. He smiled as I pulled in, and my heart picked up speed. When had just seeing someone ever lifted my mood so easily? I hadn’t seen him in a few days, since the morning after my mom had fallen, and I’d missed him.
“Hello,” he said, after opening the car door for me and helping me out. He immediately wrapped me up in a hug.
“You look handsome,” I said, closing my eyes and breathing him in.
When we pulled apart, he looked down at his outfit. “You and your pretty words,” he teased. He wore jeans and a collared green shirt that brought out the green in his eyes. He knew his color.
“You do,” I insisted.
“How’s Mom?”
“Are you calling her Mom now?”
“I’m not going to lie, I forgot her name.”
I laughed. “Andrea.”
“How is Andrea?”
“She ate this morning, took some new pills the doctor prescribed, and stared at the scooter while scowling but did not try it. So pretty much the same.” I had called my dad yesterday, after my talk with Tara, for the first time in… a long time. He hadn’t answered. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to try again today.
“So not well,” he said.
“Not great.” I was trying not to think about the fact that my dad hadn’t called me back in the last twenty-four hours. That didn’t bode well for my campaign to get him here. For my mom.
Elijah took my hand in his and met my eyes. “Today… if you want to… if you need to…”
“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Lie,” he said.
“What?”
“If you want to lie in session to get some good advice. Advice that will actually help you with your life instead of helping this fake engagement she thinks we have, you can. I can play the terrible fiancé.”
“Are you saying I need therapy?”
“Don’t we all? Isn’t that your mantra?”
I smiled. “How dare you use my argument against me.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to, of course. Or if you want, you can go in without me even, I can make up an emergency work call or something.” His offer and the way he offered it, knowing he was a people pleaser and liked everyone to see the best in him, expanded my chest with gratitude.
“You are so sweet. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re just a pretty face.” I tugged on his hand and walked toward the building, letting him know that no fake work emergency was in order.
“Nobody has ever said that.”
“Really? Huh. Well, disclaimer, that’s what I thought when I first met you.”
“Wow.” He squeezed my hand.
“And for the record,” I said, “I won’t need to lie.”
