Page 45 of We Can Forever

Carol’s smile is soft. “Does this place have anything other than pizza?”

“Oh. Uh.” He frowns, clearly thinking. “Yeah. They do.”

“You should get a salad,” she tells me. “Or gluten-free, if they have it. The gluten could be sapping your energy.”

“Maybe,” I mumble. “Do you remember where the key is?”

“Yes.” She gives me a quick hug. “I’ll be fine. You go have fun. And remember, gluten!”

“Okay.” I give her a grateful smile, though a part of me wishes she were coming with. Doing something unexpected would feel better with her by my side.

She grabs her suitcase. “Good to meet you both,” she tells Michael and Katie.

“You too.” Michael opens the door for her, and I lean to watch her through the window as she gets into her rental car.

“Ready to go?” Katie asks, bouncing from foot to foot.

“Yep. Thanks for inviting me,” I say, surprised with myself for doing something that hasn’t been planned at least twenty-four hours in advance.

I don’t usually do anything spontaneous. I like to know what’s coming next, because that helps keep my fibro and anxiety in check. But maybe I’m changing.

Maybe I’m starting to feel safe around Michael.

Grabbing my coat, I cast him a long, soft look. He opens the door, letting Katie go first. As I step through, he grazes my waist with his hand, and pure ecstasy shoots through me.

Maybe I’m more than feeling safe around him, I realize as I lock the door and the three of us walk down the street. Maybe I’m starting to trust him.

Me. After years of trusting only a select few people—and certainly no men. But here I am, a flower opening up, turning its petals to the sun that is Michael Greer.

Chapter Sixteen

MICHAEL

The mainland is like a whole different world. Here, no one knows who I am—unless it’s one of the occasional instances when I’ll bump into someone from the island. People are doing their thing, rushing to work or their next errand, and not one of them gives a damn about who I am or what I’m doing.

I can just be. And tonight, I can do that with Hannah by my side.

The drive over the bridge and into town is upbeat, Katie dominating the conversation with news from school. If Hannah is bored, it doesn’t show; from all appearances, she’s hanging on every word about who might have put the graffiti in the girls’ bathroom and the argument over whether the next dance’s theme should be “Winter Wonderland” or “’90s Nostalgia.”

“I don’t know if this place has gluten-free pizza,” I say when there’s a break in the conversation.

Hannah shakes her head. “That doesn’t matter. Carol has a lot of…opinions about what I should and shouldn’t eat. I already know gluten isn’t a trigger for me.”

“Does she know that?” I cock an eyebrow.

Hannah looks out the window. “I’ve told her.”

Her voice is suddenly smaller, her shoulders hunched over. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned her aunt.

It’s strange, though. Hannah seemed genuinely excited about Carol coming to visit. Watching them together, though, I sensed some tension.

Maybe that’s just the way it is with family, though. God knows my mom and I don’t have a perfect relationship by any means.

Parking on the street, we walk down the block to the pizza place Katie and I hit up every week. My hand aches to slip into Hannah’s, but I hold back. Is Katie ready for that?

I know I am.

In the short time since Hannah and I have started dating, my opinion on keeping things from my daughter has changed. Jenny was right; Katie can handle a lot more than I was giving her credit for.

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