Page 61 of Holly Jolly Heat
"It is torture," Lucas admitted. "She held my hand last night. We almost kissed, I think. And then she pulled back. Reinforced boundaries."
"But less strongly than before."
"True," Lucas agreed.
Ro appeared in the doorway. "Conversation without me? I'm wounded."
"We're discussing Michelle," Lucas said.
"Ah. My favorite topic." Ro leaned against the doorframe. "She's processing. I can hear her pacing in her room. Heavy thinking happening."
"Good thinking or bad thinking?" I asked.
"Probably both. She's Michelle. She overthinks everything." But Ro was smiling slightly. "Although she did tell Maya that we're 'not terrible' and 'somewhat tolerable,' which I think is basically a declaration of love in Michelle-speak."
Lucas laughed. "Progress."
"Slow progress," I corrected. "But progress nonetheless."
"The ladder incident helped," Ro observed. "You gave her a concrete thing to react to. Let her feel the fear of loss and realize she cares too much to keep pretending she doesn't."
"I didn't fall on purpose."
"No, but you handled it perfectly. Let her fuss. Let her care. Didn't minimize her fear or tell her she was overreacting." Ro'sexpression turned serious. "That's what she needs. Permission to feel things without judgment."
"She's been holding so much in," Lucas said quietly. "Building walls so high she forgot what it felt like to let people in."
"Until us," I said.
"Until us," they agreed.
We sat in comfortable silence, processing. We were making progress. Michelle was cracking. The walls were coming down, slowly but surely.
But there was still so far to go.
"Saturday's stream," Ro said, breaking the silence. "I was thinking we could do something interactive. Get Michelle involved naturally, not forced. Maybe a Q&A about content strategy? She'd be in her element. Professional. But it would normalize her being on camera."
"She'd see it as work," Lucas added, brightening. "Not personal. She could maintain her professional boundaries while still being present."
"And viewers would see her competence," I finished. "See her as the brilliant manager she is, not just 'Lucas's maybe-girlfriend.'"
"It could work," Ro said. "If she agrees."
"I'll ask her," Lucas offered. "Frame it as business. Which it is. Mostly."
"Mostly," Ro agreed with a slight smile.
Another knock, this time Michelle herself.
"Can I come in?" she asked, hovering in the doorway.
"Always," I said.
She entered, and I noticed she was carrying something, a thermos and what looked like pain medication.
"I brought you tea," she said, setting both on the desk. "Bill's special blend. Good for bruises and general soreness. Andibuprofen, because you should take it every four hours for the next day or two."
She was fussing. Even now, hours after the fall, she was still taking care of me.
