Page 173 of Sunrise & Serenity

For a terrifying second, I wonder if I dreamed the whole thing. The apology. The way he looked at me. The things he said.

I glance toward the chair beside my bed. It’s empty.

Before disappointment can settle too heavily in my stomach, movement by the window catches my eye.

Mia lowers the magazine she’s been reading, relief flashing across her face. “Good. You’re awake.”

I groan softly. “My head feels terrible.”

“That’s because you gave yourself a concussion.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she says cheerfully.

I close my eyes, and for a few moments the room falls quiet.

When Mia speaks again, her voice is softer, threaded with concern. “How are you doing?”

I don’t think she’s talking about my head.

A sigh slips out of me. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Yeah. I don’t blame you.”

I stare at the ceiling. “Holden came back.” The words still feel surreal.

Mia snorts. “Yeah. I heard. Pretty sure half the county knows by now.”

Despite myself, I smile. Then his words replay in my mind.

If Milan is what you want, I’ll go there too.

A strange mix of warmth and sadness settles in my chest. He still doesn’t know. He came all this way not knowing whether I’d choose Milan, go back to New York, or want something entirely different.

Meanwhile, I’d already chosen.

“What are you thinking?” Mia asks.

I turn toward her. “That he’s an idiot.”

She bursts out laughing.

A smile tugs at my lips, and without thinking, I shake my head at her. The motion makes it pound. “Ow.”

She sobers, her eyes widening. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I slide the sheet covering me between my fingers. “He offered to follow me anywhere.”

Her eyes widen. “And?”

I stare through the window at the distant mountains. “And he still thinks I’m leaving.”

There’s a knock at the door, but it swings open before I can respond. My pulse leaps, then stalls as Mom walks in, not Holden. Dad follows a step behind her, with Graham bringing up the rear.

The knot that forms in my stomach isn’t anxiety. It’s exhaustion. Why is he still here?

“Mia,” he says in that familiar dismissive tone that grates on every nerve I have.