Page 155 of The Ashes of Summer

Not that I mind. Not even slightly.

"Has he finally stopped pretending he doesn't need painkillers?" Adelaide asks.

"No."

"Stubborn bastard," Constance mutters, and there's real affection in it.

Something in my chest warms at that. Because despite everything, they love him now too. Not just because he saved me, but because they've finally seen the man underneath all the rage—the one who'd burn himself down before he let anybody he loves suffer.

The next hour passes so normally it almost hurts.

We gossip. Constance points out men she finds attractive while Adelaide judges every single choice. We talk about vacations we'll probably never book, clothes we can't justify buying, and whether Adelaide is finally brave enough to wear the very small white bikini that's been sitting in her online basket since June.

And for a little while, life feels light again.

Not fixed. Maybe it never fully will be. I've got a standing Thursday appointment with a therapist that says as much, and some weeks I come out of that room hollowed out and some weeks I come out lighter, and I've stopped expecting to be able to predict which.

But lighter. That's real. That counts.

There's a moment, somewhere in the middle of Constance describing a man's shoulders in forensic detail, where I think about Mama. The way she'd have laughed at this table, at all three of us, with her hand over her mouth the way she always did.

It still hurts. It's going to keep hurting.

But it doesn't take me under anymore. It just moves through and out again, and leaves me sitting here with my friends and my milkshake.

By the time we leave and start wandering through the mall, I realize this is the longest I've spent away from Jacob since the Ridge.

And honestly? I already miss him.

"I think I'm going to head home," I admit, digging through my bag for my cell. "I kind of just want to curl up on the couch with a book and a hot chocolate."

"Fucking grandma," Constance says instantly.

I glare at her. "I enjoy peace."

"No," Adelaide says firmly. "Jacob specifically said you're allowed to buy whatever you want on his card."

"I don't want to spend his money."

Adelaide rolls her eyes. "Summer. That man would buy you the moon if you mentioned liking it."

She's probably right.

"I heard the boutique upstairs got a new lingerie collection in," she adds, far too casually. "If you don't want to spend money on yourself, spend it on something he'll appreciate."

Constance gasps. "Oh, now that I support."

I laugh despite myself, and then I actually think about it.

About the way he's been with me these past weeks. About every single time he's waited, and never once let me see him wanting. About however long you need, whatever you need, that's what we do, and how he meant every word of it, and how he's proved it a hundred quiet times since.

About the fact that a few weeks ago, I stopped flinching when he reached for me in the dark.

About the fact that last Sunday, in our own bed, in our own house, I reached for him first.

So maybe it isn't such a bad idea after all.

We head for the boutique.