Page 81 of Based on You

"The damn train was delayed." She held on tighter. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." I pulled back and looked at her.

"How does it feel?" she beamed through tears. "Being a wildly successful writer with your real name on a book?"

"It honestly feels like this moment is yours as much as it is mine," I told her.

She shook her head. "It's yours, Vi."

"I love you," I whispered.

She laughed, the sound a little unsteady. "I love you too. Please stop making me cry in public."

I hugged her again and just let the tears come quietly. The specific kind that arrives only when something beautiful you hadn't let yourself hope for has happened anyway. Sloane held on until I was done.

The party went late into the night. I stayed warm and happy all the way through it.

We finally got home very late.

Olivia announced she needed to sleep and went straight upstairs. Her bedroom door clicked closed quietly, without the sealed, angry finality of the dark old months, just the soft sound of someone who was tired and safely at home.

Simon and I stayed downstairs in the kitchen.

He opened the wine cabinet and looked back at me. "Wine?"

I leaned against the marble counter. "I'm honestly a bit tipsy already."

"Drunk sex is always good," he offered.

I laughed, tired. "Who said anything about sex?"

He looked at me, a wicked glint in his eye. "Are we seriously not?"

I smiled. "I really just want to sleep."

He crossed the kitchen and pressed a warm kiss to my neck. "What if I can change your mind?"

I started to answer, then stopped.

He pulled back, sensing the shift, and looked closely at me.

"My parents didn't call," I said into the quiet.

The kitchen went still.

"The book is everywhere. It's on the news. It's all over the internet. There's no way they haven't seen it." I stared at the counter. "They didn't call me. They didn't even text. Nothing."

"Did you want them to?"

I thought about it with brutal honesty. "I don't know. I think… I think I just wanted them to see the success, and know it was mine, and be proud of me, even if they couldn't bring themselves to say it out loud." I paused, the old sting flaring. "But they didn't."

He stepped closer, wrapping me up. "If you want to see them, we can. We can drive up there together whenever you want."

"No." The firm answer came before I'd finished thinking it. "No. I just want to be here. I want to stay right here with you."

He kissed me deep. I tangled my hands in his dark hair and kissed him back, and he deepened it slowly, his hand anchoring at my waist until I wasn't thinking about my parents, or the party, or the bestselling book, or anything else in the world except the warmth of him in this kitchen at the end of this perfect night.

He finally lifted his head, breathing hard.