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“I brought cups,” I say, pulling out the two paper cups I stole from Mylene.

“Classy,” Francie says with a soft smile.

“I aim to impress.” I pop the cork, pour the bubbly liquid into the glasses, and hand her one.

Her fingers brush mine as she takes it. “I can’t believe you waited in your car all day.”

“I told you I would.”

“I know.” There’s the smallest smile on her lips. “You must ache like hell from being cramped up.”

“It was worth it,” I tell her truthfully. And then, I take a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. For not talking to you. For not trusting you with what was going on. I’m working on it. I promise. And I won’t block you out. If you just give me…us, another chance.”

Her lips part. “You nearly lost everything.”

“I nearly lost you.” I pull my phone out of my pocket. “I started writing a short story while I was in the car. Would you like to see it?”

She blinks, somewhere between confused and amused. “Okay.”

I open the notes app and pass it to her. And she starts reading it out loud.

“He realized he’d lost the best thing that ever happened to him. And he groveled. For the rest of his life. The end.”

She looks up, her eyes crinkling. “You’re such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd,” I murmur. “If you’ll have me back.”

Her breath hitches. “I’m so mad at you.”

“I know.”

“You hurt me.” Her voice cracks and it fractures something inside me too. But this is my fault. And I need to make amends.

“I know that too. And I’ll keep apologizing every day until you believe how sorry I am.”

A beat of silence follows. Then her voice softens. “But I’m so stupidly in love with you it hurts to be without you even more.”

The air leaves my lungs. “God, Francie, I love you. So damn much.”

Then she’s in my arms, our mouths meeting in a kiss that tastes like champagne and second chances. It’s wild and warm and filled with everything we haven’t said.

The bottle tips over somewhere behind us, champagne hissing as it meets the counter. My elbow knocks over one of the glasses. But we ignore it, my hands in her hair, hers tugging at my shirt buttons like we’re both desperate to make up for lost time.

She pulls back long enough to whisper, “Take me to bed. Now.”

And I don’t need telling twice.

ASHER

Francie lays in my arms, softly sleeping as I stare at the ceiling, my chest feeling so damn light I swear I could float up there if I wanted to.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this content. Maybe I never have, I don’t know. All I do know is that being with this woman feels like coming home and being on vacation at the same time. She’s the best of everything. Definitely the best of me.

And she’s forgiven me for lying to her.

Thank God. It already feels like months ago, the pain of watching her walk away, even though it’s hardly been a week. The ache in my heart of knowing I’d messed up the best thing that had ever happened to me.

My phone starts to vibrate on the table beside me, and without moving Francie, I reach for it, ready to silence it. Butthere’s a message from Zach. Some stupid meme of a cat wearing a bandana. I like it and go to turn off the screen, but of course I’ve unleashed the fucking Kraken. Because now the family chat notifications are buzzing.