Page 211 of Love Arranged
“You did, regardless of what Willow says.”
With one last exhale, I reach for my phone. “Okay.”
“Do you want me to stay or go?”
I answer her question by wrapping my arm around her and calling Willow back on speakerphone.
“Well, well. Nice to finally hear back from you. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for the last ten minutes, Mayor Vittori.”
Lily slaps a hand over her mouth, but not fast enough to muffle her excited squeak.
I laugh.
Fuckinglaughat her round eyes and arched brows.
Right before the humor fades and the truth settles in.
Mayor Vittori.
“You did it. You pulled it off…” Willow rambles on about my plans for the day, but I’m still in shock.
I’m the mayor, and it feels…unfair to be happy when the people I first ran for aren’t here to celebrate.
Tears pool in my eyes, and I blink them away. I won’t cry in front of Lily. I refuse to.
Yet no matter how hard I try, one escapes out of the corner of my eye and slides down my cheek.
“Willow, Lorenzo will call you back.” Lily hangs up the phone and throws her arms around me.
“Baby,” she says.
I tuck my head against her shoulder to hide my face.
She slides her hands through my hair, comforting me with her touch and soft words. “I can’t imagine how you feel right now.”
Happiness is the first emotion I can pin down for obviousreasons, followed by overwhelming sadness, knowing that the main reason I ran for this position was because of Trevor. Guilt is there too, along with its constant companion, grief.
“Do you want to go visit your parents and share the news?” she offers.
I nod, still not lifting my head from the crook of her neck.
“No rush.” She exudes a calm energy that I desperately need to emulate. “Whenever you’re ready, we can go.”
Lily and I are on our way to the cemetery when my phone rings. The area code is one I recognize, but the number isn’t one I have saved.
I let it go to voicemail, only for them to call again.
“Are you going to answer?” Lily asks.
“If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.”
The ringing ends abruptly, and the song Lily and I were listening to starts up again, only to be interrupted a minute later by a voicemail notification.
I pass her my phone and ask her to play it since I’m driving.
“Hey, Lorenzo.” Trevor’s voice fills the car, and suddenly the large truck I’m driving feels way too small.
Lily pauses it. “You good?”
