For a few hours that night, I remembered what it felt like to not be alone. For a few hours, I stopped blaming myself.
Chapter Thirty-One
Elizabeth
I tiptoed to the kitchen around six in the morning, leaving Tristan resting. The whole house was silent, but I could smell the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the rooms.
“You’re a morning person too?” Mike asked, smiling my way with a mug of coffee in his hand. He seemed like such a friendly guy, and just seeing his smiling face made me feel awful for how I’d treated him and Mama the night before.
He pulled out another mug and poured a cup of coffee for me. “Sugar? Cream?”
“Black,” I replied, taking the mug from him.
“Ah, something we have in common. I like to say your mom drinks her sugar and cream with a dash of coffee, but for me the darker the better.” He sat down on the stool at the island and I sat beside him.
“I owe you an apology, Mike. Yesterday was terrible.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes life is weird. You just have to deal with the weirdness and hope that you find some weirdos who will move forward with you.”
“Is my mom your weirdo?”
He smiled wide.
She is.
His fingers wrapped around his mug, and he stared into the dark coffee. “Richard was an awful person, Elizabeth, and he did some terrible things to Hannah. When they came into my office that day, I watched him put his hands on her in the worst way. I sent him out of my office, where he left her crying. I cancelled all of my appointments that day and allowed her to just sit in my office for as long as she needed. I understand you thinking that this thing between her and me is fake. I know all about her history with men, her history of hurt, and I want you to know that I love her. I love her so much and will spend the rest of my days protecting her from any more hurt.”
The mug shook in my hands. “He hurt her? He hurt her, and I said those terrible things to her last night…”
“You didn’t know.”
“That doesn’t matter, though. I should’ve never said those things. If I were her, I wouldn’t forgive me.”
“She already forgave you.”
“I almost forgot that both of you are early birds.” Mama yawned, walking into the kitchen. She raised an eyebrow my way. “What’s wrong?” I stood up and rushed over to her, wrapping her in my arms. “Liz, what are you doing?”
“Congratulating you on your engagement.”
Her face lit up. “You’ll come to the wedding?”
“Of course.”
She hugged me back tighter. “I’m so glad, because the wedding is in three weeks for the New Year.”
“Three weeks?!” I said, my voice rising. I paused, feeling the nerves in my gut. Mama didn’t need my opinion right now; she needed my support. “Three weeks! Wonderful!”
Mama and Mike left a few hours later, after a game of Zombieland with Emma, complete with their own ketchup scars. Tristan, Emma, Zeus, and I sat on the couch for a while before Tristan pushed himself up on his elbows and looked my way. “Want to go shopping for my place?”
We still hadn’t finished adding the small touches to his house—the things he claimed he didn’t give a crap about, like throw pillows, paintings, and all the small decorative things I loved. “Yes!” I chimed, always looking for a reason to go shopping.
“Those are ugly, Tick!” Emma said, wrinkling her nose at Tristan’s choice of purple and mustard yellow throw pillows for his couch.
“What?! These are great!” he argued.
“They look like poop.” Emma laughed.
I had to agree with her. “It’s almost as if you thought, ‘Ooh, let’s make my house completely hideous after Lizzie and Emma worked so hard to make it amazing.’”