Page 97 of Finally Forever
“This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I never wanted to freak you out.”
“I’m processing. It’s a lot.”
I wait, my hands crossed in front of me, prepared to leave and check into a hotel. “I’m not broke. I can get a hotel, and we can talk over coffee tomorrow, if that will help.”
His gaze locks on mine. “You’re not leaving. Luc is cooking for you. I want you to stay, and I want to hear more about your life. Maybe not over dinner tonight. I don’t want Luc worried about this.”
“I understand.” How did I get this all wrong?
Lowell has every right to react the way he is. I’ve been dealing with this for a while. When I first learned Sebastian was in the mafia, I didn’t quite believe it. I was scared, but I was invested in him. I had a reason to stay and risk my life. Lowell is innocent. This is why Sebastian never wanted me to tell anyone. I hadn’t considered what Lowell’s reaction would be.
“Maybe I—”
“You’re not leaving,” he says, still able to read me so well. “We’ll talk more in the morning after Luc goes to work. For now, let’s have dinner and not mention the mafia at all. Okay? D’accord?”
“Yes.” I nod, hating that I’ve made him uneasy.
Luc has the small table set in the space that has the kitchen, dinette, and sitting room in one. Onions and cheese waft through the air and my stomach groans. “Luc, this smells amazing!”
He smiles and lifts the lid to the soup. “Bon appétit.”
We sit, and he fills our bowls. The baguette sandwiches are already on the plates.
“I know I’m going to love this. I love French food, and these are some of my favorites.”
“I’m glad,” Luc says with a sweet smile that has guilt rising in me.
They don’t need the drama of me in their lives.
Lowell dips his sandwich in his soup. “I like to eat it like this.”
Luc shakes his head. “Americans.”
“I’m practically French now,” Lowell exclaims with a playful grin.
Luc rolls his eyes. I want to dip my sandwich too, but I don’t want to offend Luc.
The first bite makes my toes curl as warm goat cheese and ham mix with the buttery rich baguette. I moan. “Magnifique.”
“Try the soup,” Luc says.
I do and moan again. “Chef’s kiss.” I touch my fingers to my lips.
Luc’s face lights up. “I’m glad you approve,” he says with his French accent. Is there a prettier accent in the world?
As we eat, Lowell and I reminisce about the past. Luc is very interested in hearing about how Lowell was in high school. When that topic runs dry, Lowell tells me the story of how he and Luc met—which I know already, but I don’t want to remind Lowell because he’s enjoying himself so much.
His eyes still light up when he talks about it. I don’t know what I had envisioned for his life—his future—but it wasn’t this. He was so confused when he left Florida. Now, he has it all. Love, happiness, his dream job, and a beautiful life in Paris.
Tears of happiness sting my eyes. I blink them away before either of them notices my emotional breakdown. Is the pregnancy causing me to fall apart so easily?
After coffee and more talking, we say goodnight. Lowell walks me to my room.
“Thank you for such a wonderful evening. Luc is perfect. I’m so happy for you.”
“Are you crying?” Lowell bends to hug me.
I wrap my arms around his waist, like I used to do in high school. Lowell was always a hugger. “I’m jetlagged. It makes me emotional,” I lie and let out a big yawn.
