She puts down the coffee cup with a shaking hand. “You,” she says again, softer this time.
“Yes, June,” I respond, brushing some of her messy bed-hair behind her ear.
I’m not sure what reaction I’m expecting, but it startles me when she throws her arms around my waist. “It’s you,” she says again, burying her face in my chest and squeezing the life out of me. “I was so hoping it would be you.”
“What the heck,” Mathilde says, with her hands on her hips. “Are you two lovers or something? Is this why I’m making bacon smiley faces?”
I laugh and ignore her, just hugging June back. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. But I’ll be home for a while, now.”
“Good,” she says. “Uh, can we talk privately—before the girls wake up?”
“Sure,” I tell her, allowing her to take my hand and lead me away from the kitchen, into the study. Well, here it comes. I just know she’s going to be angry at me. Furious. But I deserve it.