Page 174 of Before Dawn

I called, but he said he’d call back soon since his meeting wasn’t over yet. After a deep breath, I got up, brushed my teeth, prayed, and threw on one of his shirts before heading to the kitchen for leftovers.

I cleared the counters—tossing the wilted flowers and putting away the dishes. Whenever anxiety crept in, I used thefour-four-fourbreathing method Mikkel showed me, and it worked wonders.

By the time I was done, my head felt clearer, and the knot in my chest had loosened. I called my family to catch up, then spent twenty minutes on Duolingo, though I was pretty sure the bird was judging me.

When the session ended, I checked my phone and saw new messages from Mikkel.

S:Hey baby. The meeting just ended.

S:How are you feeling?

Me:So much better. I can’t thank you enough for all you do.

S:You never have to thank me. I’m always here.

S:I’m pickingyou up at five.

Me:I know better than to ask where we’re going, so I’ll see you then.

S:Good girl. *yellow heart*

God, what am I gonna do with this man?

Five o’clock came, and I knew it was Mikkel when I heard the knock at the door.

I sauntered over in black boyfriend jeans and a yellow crop top with HOT stitched across the center.

I swung the door open, and there he was. His cologne wrapped around me like a slow embrace. Honey-brown eyes behind black glasses, perfectly straight white teeth, and lips that made my knees weak.

He held a bouquet of the most stunning yellow and white primroses, a thoughtful gesture that never failed to touch my heart.

“Gonna let me in, Red?”

I blinked, realizing I’d been standing there, staring.

I stepped aside quickly. “Sorry… I spaced.”

He handed me the flowers, his fingers brushing mine, and warmth spread through my chest.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “The last set you got me wilted, so I threw them out today.”

“I know,” he said casually.

“How?”

“Every time I buy you flowers, I keep a few at home to know when to replace yours.”

My breath hitched.

He wasn’t just giving me flowers—he was keeping track, making sure I always had fresh ones. The ones in his kitchen weren’t just decoration.They were for me.

I stared at him, my heart pressing against my ribs. “You… do that for me?”

He shrugged, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. “Flowers make you happy, and your happiness matters to me.”

I reached up, cupping his face, struggling to find the words. But what could I even say? How could I possibly articulate the way he made me feel?

His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer, his voice husky. “Todo para ti,nena.103”

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