Page 115 of Heartbeats & Highways

“These are gorgeous,” I said, burying my nose in the fragrant bouquet.

“Are you going to tell him you’re moving into Brooklyn’s place?” she asked. “Or let it be a surprise?”

“I’ll tell him. I mean, I’ll be moving all his things to the new place.”

“I can’t believe you’re moving out just when we became friends.”

The tea kettle started whistling so I went to the cabinet and pulled out two mugs. “Wanna try the tea you gave me?”

“Sure.”

I fixed us two cups of tea and we took our mugs over to the couch. I sat down and a wave of exhaustion poured over me. “We’ll still see each other all the time.”

“No, we won’t,” she said, her tone sad. “You’ll start nesting and get all wrapped up in Savage and then when the babies come?—”

“Hey, you can’t shake me now,” I said with a tender smile. “I’m not used to having friends. I didn’t have any growing up and now I’m sort of collecting them. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me.”

“You didn’t have friends growing up? Really? Were you a loner?”

I nibbled my lip when I said, “My parents were very strict and religious growing up. And when I was fourteen, they moved our family to a farm.”

“Where are they now?” she asked. “Or are you not close to them?”

“They died a week after my eighteenth birthday,” I said, looking away from her.

“Oh, Evie. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I asked.”

A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. “It’s okay. It was a . . . strained relationship but they were my parents, you know?”

“Yeah.”

Thankfully she dropped the subject.

We sipped our tea in silence, and I wondered if I’d said too much.

She eventually went back to her place, giving me some time to myself. I tidied up the apartment, every now and again sniffing the bouquet.

My phone buzzed and I leapt at it with excitement.

“Well, hello,” I greeted with a wide smile.

“Hey, babe,” Savage said. “How are you doing?”

“Terrible.” My tone was light. “You haven’t even been gone that long and I can’t handle it.”

“I feel the same way. You get the flowers?”

“Yeah, they’re beautiful.”

“Just like you.”

My heart melted in a puddle, and I nearly cried because of my hormones, but I somehow reined it in.

“So you should be proud of me?—”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to tell you,” I said with a laugh.

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