Page 38 of Don't Leave Me

“Can I help you with anything, Jemma? You and Hana look awfully busy in here,” Michael offered sweetly after watching us cook for a half hour.

My mom beamed. “Sure, Michael! Here, mix this,” she handed him a mixer for the pie batter.

The doorbell rang: it had to be Emily.

“I’ll get it!” I called out, rushing to the foyer.

Emily was already walking through the door; we both smiled at each other widely and rushed towards each other.

“Hana banana,” Emily exclaimed, hugging me tightly.

“I missed you so much, Em,” I hugged her back; we must have been hugging for a minute straight.

“You look so great, Han,” Emily eyed me once we parted, showing her adorable dimples and her piercing blue eyes staring at me.

“You do! Look at your hair, it’s darker!” I realized, her usual blonde hair now a light brown.

“I know. I needed a change,” she shrugged, setting down her purse and shrugging off her fluffy black coat.

I watched her as she placed it on the coat hanger. Emily always had great style, admittedly similar to mine, and today was no different – she wore black jeans with a rip on the knee, black suede ankle boots, and a white V-neck t-shirt with some French written on it. I donned all black with black jeans, black heeled boots, and a long black collared sheer blouse.

“I want you to meet someone,” I widened my eyes, latching her arm onto mine as we walked down the hallway into the kitchen.

My mom was pouring herself a glass of wine while Michael looked down at the pie batter, a confused look on his face and a small splatter of something on his green collared cotton shirt. Everyone else was mingling around the kitchen and living room and out back.

“Michael,” I called him, and he quickly looked up with wide eyes. “This is Emily!” I said excitedly.

“Emily! You’re here!” my mom exclaimed, throwing up her hands, interrupting the whole introduction.

Emily beamed and hugged my mom while I went up to Michael and wrapped my arm around his waist, wiping off the pie splatter.

“Michael, is it?” Emily asked, looking over at us.

“Yes,” Michael responded politely. “Nice to meet you,” he smiled.

“Nice to meet you! Han, is this your boyfriend?” she looked at me with a smile.

I nodded, biting my lip, proud as hell.

“Thanks for telling me!” she playfully scoffed and pushed my shoulder lightly.

“It’snew. She just told me about him yesterday!” my mom matched Emily’s tone.

Emily shook her head at me with a smile and was hounded by our relatives greeting her suddenly.

“Alright, who wants some hot apple cider?” my mom called out loudly. “The good kind!” she added, laughing to herself.

The good kind obviously meant it had alcohol in it. This was going to be quite an eventful Thanksgiving.

“The last time we got together, Hana and I went bar hopping in Williamsburg and we found thegreatestdiner at like, 5 AM and then watched the sunset at Brooklyn Heights Promenade. That’s why I fucking love New York City!” Emily explained to Michael as we all sat around the fireplace in the living room, sipping on thegoodhot apple cider.

Michael looked at me with his eyebrows raised. He probably couldn’t even fathom the idea of me bar hopping. Of course, he hadn’t seen that side of me yet.

“How did we even end up in Brooklyn Heights?” Emily continued, laughing. “I can’t even remember!”

“I don’t remember either,” I shook my head, smiling.

Emily took another sip of cider. “Do you live in Brooklyn too, Michael?” she asked, her eyes intent as he looked between the two of us.

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