Page 90 of Head Over Heels

Chase’s voice breaks.

Chase’s voicebreaks.

I’m crying. I grab the belt of my trench coat and wipe away the tears, but it doesn’t help much. I throw my arms around him and he rocks me back and forth, and oh my God, everything fits. He, the house, this family—everything wraps around me, and I’mhome.

I eventually stop crying and can talk again.

“There’s this part at the end ofLa La Land—that’s what I watched in the hotel last night—where the whole life he could have had flashes before his eyes. Everything, how it would have been if he hadn’t fucked up. And this morning I knew that’s how it would be if I kept driving. Every time someone said the wordhome,this is what I would picture. This living room, you and me watching our movies. Or the dining room with you and me and Katie. Every party I went to, I’d think about the barbecue we had. Every guy who asked me out—”

Chase roars. I don’t even think it’s actual words, just outrage.

“It’s not going to happen! I came back!”

He gives me a dark, dark look:better not.

Mmm. I do so love Chase’s possessive thing.

“Anyway, I didn’t want to be like theLa La Landhero anymore, with the life I wanted just a film playing in my mind.”

He points a finger at me. “Damn straight. Good thing you came when you did. I had just about given up on you.”

Fear flickers. “You had?”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous,” he says, and wraps me up in his arms again.

Chapter 52

Chase

“Daddy, why are you making pancakes?”

“I thought you might like some.”

“Aren’t pancakes just for fesshul occasions?”

“This is aspecialoccasion, Katie girl.”

“What occasion?”

“We have a visitor.”

Her eyes get really big. “Is it Granna Emily?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

She looks disappointed, but I know she’s not going to be disappointed.

I’m not disappointed. I’m totally fucking exhausted, from, well, totally fucking all night long, but I’m the happiest guy on the whole planet. And it makes me even happier to think about how Katie’s going to be when she finds out who our visitor is.

“Is it Nana and Papa?”

“Nope.”

“Is it Uncle Henry?”

“Nope.”

“It’s me!” says Liv, appearing in the door of the kitchen. She’s wearing actualclothes.One thing we did do last night was unload her suitcase from the car. Just that one suitcase. I suspect Liv will never have many permanent belongings, a subconscious hedge against feeling like she might have to move again at any moment. That’s fine, as long as she knows that wherever she goes, Katie and I are going with her.

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