Page 125 of Severance

“She can do whatever she wants.” Mikah scowls, his gaze returning to me. “Right, baby?” He brushes my hair.

“Okay, you can make out later,” Jess says, “but I need to get home and get ready for my party. Who’s driving?”

“I thought your boyfriend was.” I motion at Luke.

“We Ubered,” Mikah explains. “There’s no way I’m letting this fool get behind the wheel.”

“You’d be surprised what I can do with one good leg.” He bats his eyes at us and throws his arm over Jess’s shoulder.

Seeing him smile and joke makes me feel light and happy. He used to refuse to leave his wheelchair. At some point, all of us refused to move on.

“Okay.” Jess slaps Luke’s chest playfully. “We better get going.” Her gaze shifts to me. “I’ll see you two later.”

“Don’t let him drive,” Mikah growls out, drawing his cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Thank God for Uber,” she agrees.

After we say our goodbyes, Mikah lights up his cigarette and we head to the parking lot. The scent of his aftershave and Marlboros makes my head spin. It’s a fine blend of humble and taunting, and it reminds me of all the times we’ve shared.

“I thought Al told you to quit,” I say, wrapping my fingers tighter around Mikah’s hand.

“Al can go fuck himself.”

I don’t argue, because I know Mikah will bend for the label only so much. He’s already given up all his time.

“Oh, did I tell you Anna’s Pastry is going to be on Food Network?” I jerk his arm as excitement rolls through me. Someone contacted Mrs. Kaminski last week. One of the producers came across an Instagram photo of a wedding cake I took a couple of months ago.

“For real?” Mikah exhales the smoke into the warm air.

“Yes. I might end up being on TV before you.” I tease him.

“Nice. That’s my girl.”

A pleasant shiver races up my spine. I like hearing him say that I’m his.

“You’re sure you want your dad wasting money on your college tuition?” he jokes.

“I want to finish it. I don’t know if I’m ever going to need the diploma, but I want to finish it.”

Mikah pulls me toward the trash can and puts out his cigarette before we get into my car.

We sit in silence for a few moments, staring at each other, studying each other’s faces. Watching him is like waiting for sunrise. Excruciatingly breathtaking.

“I missed you.” My voice is small and shaky and all my fears are exposed.

“Of course you did.” Mikah reaches for my hair and tucks a loose strand behind my ear. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be texting me every five minutes.”

“Is it too much?”

“Nah.” His eyes align with mine. “It’s perfect.” There’s a pause. “My mom’s coming to my show next month.”

“Oh.” I gasp softly, anxiety tampering with my calm. Mikah and his mother became distant after Dakota’s death. I didn’t know any of this until after he moved to Seattle permanently. It took him a little while to open up.

“Yeah.” Mikah relaxes in his seat and runs his palm over his face.

“She’ll love it.”

“I hope she does.”

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