Page 163 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

He meant what he said. He wants me to move in with him. I can quit my job. He wants to take care of me. It should feel like too much, but it doesn’t. By the time the check comes, I already know. Outside, Sarah and Luca walk ahead toward the SUV, but I reach for Michael’s arm before he can follow.

He stops and looks down at me. “Everything okay?”

“My answer is yes,” I say.

There’s a second where he doesn’t follow, and then it clicks.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Chapter 58

Katie

The funeral is three days later. Yesterday, I couldn’t make myself get out of bed. I couldn’t make myself sit up or bring myself to face anything waiting outside that room. Every time I opened my eyes, it was already there, and I didn’t have the energy to deal with it. I stayed where I was and let the day pass around me.

Michael stayed with me. I know he had work. I know his life didn’t stop because mine did. None of that changed what he did. He brought me food I didn’t eat, water I barely touched, and he kept coming back to the bed, pulling me into him and keeping contact with me every chance he got. He didn’t ask me to talk. He didn’t ask anything from me.

I told him to go. I told him he couldn’t stay there all day because of me. Eventually, he listened. He left the room, but he stayed in the house. He went downstairs to his office.

I finally got up around nine. I’d never been in there. I knocked and peeked my head in, unsure if he was still working. He was sitting at his desk with papers spread in front of him. He looked up when he heard me, glasses on his face, and smiled. I didn’t even know he wore glasses. When I walked over, he pushed his chair back from the desk. I climbed into his lap, and he pulled me in, holding me close.

He took his glasses off, set them on the desk, and pushed my hair out of my face.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Sad.”

“I know, Doll. You want me to come to bed?”

I nodded against him.

He braced one arm under my thighs and the other on my back. He stood up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He carried me down the hall and up the steps. His grip was firm, and I laid my head against his shoulder. Inside his room, he lightly shut the door with his foot and set me down on the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and disappeared into the bathroom.

A few minutes later he came back out in nothing but his boxers. He turned off the overhead light, got under the covers, and turned off his beside lamp. He moved in the dark until he found me, pulling me back against him.

“I love you, Katie,” he whispered in my ear.

“I love you too.”

“We’ll get through tomorrow, okay?”

I nodded, even if I didn’t quite believe it.

Now I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to decide if I should wear my hair up or down for my mom’s funeral. I keep lifting it, letting it fall, staring at myself without really seeing anything.

Michael steps up behind me.

“Need help with this?” he asks, his fingers finding the zipper I couldn’t reach on my dress.

“Thanks,” I say as he slides it up.

The fabric settles against me, and his hand lingers for a second at my back before he moves my hair over my shoulder. His mouth presses against my neck, and I close my eyes, leaning back into him, letting myself rest there for a moment.

“I don’t want to do this,” I say, turning into him and pressing my face into his chest.