Page 186 of Before Dawn

“Mikkel….” My voice wavered, the overwhelming tenderness creeping in before I could stop it.

He shrugged, as if he wasn’t completely wrecking me. “If it means letting you test all those colors, plus more, then I’m happy to have that side.”

I exhaled a soft, breathy laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

His hands tightened around my waist, his lips grazing my temple as he whispered, “And completely yours.”

Chapter Forty-one

Abigail-Ann

“Love brings to life what is dead around us.”

~ Franz Rosenzweig

Istood in the kitchen, fingers brushing the counter as I stared at the bubbling pot. The scent of sancocho filled the air but did little to calm me. My thoughts raced, stomach tight with nerves.

The week had blurred by—late nights at the bookstore, an aching back, pounding headaches, and mounting anxiety. Last night was the worst. I’d spiraled into a breakdown, biting my nails to the quick. When Mikkel came home, he didn’t hesitate. He left and returned with a Sephora bag, determined to fix them. His large hands moved gently as he followed YouTube tutorials like a pro. With every quiet reassurance, he steadied my chaos. I felt ridiculous, helpless to stop my body from shutting down.

Now, theanxiety only deepened. Mikkel’s parents were coming today, and the thought twisted my stomach. Memories of Joshua’s parents’ critiques—about my hair, body, skin tone, and clothes—rushed back. Their judgment had left scars, and those old insecurities resurfaced, suffocating me.

A sharp beep jolted me. The timer.Right. I was cooking.

The stove was a flurry of activity. One pot bubbled withLa Bandera, another simmered withpollo guisado, and at the center was thesancocho. A cooling dish ofhabichuelas con dulcewaited for finishing touches. It was ambitious, maybe too ambitious, but I wanted to recreate a taste of home for Mikkel and his family. Or at least something close.

The kitchen was a war zone. Chopped vegetables were scattered across the counter like casualties, and my phone was balanced precariously on a stack of napkins, playing a YouTube video. The bright-eyed woman in the tutorial had made it all look so easy, but I was sweating like I was on an episode ofChopped.

“Add the adobo,” I muttered to myself, grabbing the container. My hands shook as I measured it out, and I ended up spilling some onto the counter. “Oh, crap…” I sighed, brushing it aside and turning back to stir the pot.

Cooking had seemed like such a great idea when I mentioned it to Mikkel earlier this week. But now, standing in the middle of this chaos, I wondered if I’d bitten off more than I could chew.

The scent of plantains frying in the pan beside me was mouthwatering, though.At least the tostones were coming out fine.

My gaze drifted to the clock.They’ll be here any minute.

I quickly finished up and cleaned both the kitchen and myself before setting the table. Once the dishes were laid out, I stepped back, my heart swelling with pride.

Then as if they were timing me, I heard the elevator door open.They’re here.

His mom’s voice echoed through the penthouse before I saw her.

“Hijo!115” she exclaimed. “Your home is gorgeous. It’s so bright and elegant.”

I moved quickly, smoothing my sweater as my hands trembled.

When I finally stepped into the living room, I saw them. His mother was stunning with long dark hair, honey-brown eyes, and a full figure that exuded warmth and elegance. Behind her stood his father, the spitting image of him: tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and those same light eyes.

Mikkel entered last, his eyes locking onto mine. A slow, proud smile spread as he crossed the room. “Mi reina,116” he murmured, leaning in to kiss my temple.

His mother’s eyes lit up as she turned toward me, her warm smile melting some of the tension I’d been carrying. “And this must be the lovely Abigail.”

“Yes, Mamá,” Mikkel said, his voice filled with pride as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Esta es Abigail.117”

I felt my cheeks heat as I nodded, stepping forward. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Suarez.”

His mother clasped my hands, her smile widening. “We’ve heard so much about you,mi querida118. Thank you for going through all this trouble for us.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” I said quickly, my voice soft. “I just wanted to make sure you felt at home.”

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