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“Because there is genuine love and kindness in you. I bet Lauren’s influence helped build that. Just by knowing you, I get a glimpse of who she was.”

I choked a little. It was the most incredible thing anyone had ever said to me. I’d only ever thought about how I’d tainted Lauren’s memory. I’d never thought that carrying a piece of her inside me was a good thing. She was still a part of me. A good part.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Looking over my shoulder, I kissed him. “I’m excited to meet your parents and see who influenced you.”

Roman’s smile faded. He released me, walked back around to the other side of the island, and resumed his coffee.

“We’re not alike in the slightest,” he said.

I frowned. “You’re not like either of them? Isn’t your dad a retired congressman?”

“Just because we’re both in politics doesn’t mean anything.”

The tone of his voice conveyed far more than the words themselves. I tried a different approach while finishing the sandwich.

“What does your mother do?”

“A lot less than she used to,” he said in that low voice he used when he was angry. I had no idea why, but apparently the mother route was worse than the father.

“Did she stay home with you growing up?”

He scoffed, although I didn’t get the joke. “Sometimes she did.”

Wrapping up the sandwich and apple, I put them in a paper bag and grabbed a cookie from the nearby jar.

“Well, hopefully my lunches can measure up to hers.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Roman just glared.

“There’s nothing to measure up to, Amy.” He grabbed his bag and quickly kissed me on the forehead. “Thank you for this.” Then he walked from the kitchen.

If I had been nervous to meet his parents before, I was way beyond that now.

“Amy, this is my father, Michael Reese,” Roman said, his voice echoing slightly in the massive foyer. I was at the Reese estate—Roman’s childhood home—and he didn’t look very happy about it.

“Pleasure to meet you, young lady,” Michael said and shook my hand. He covered and patted it with the other, just like Roman did when he met people.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.” I smiled.

“Getting started without me?” a woman said, her heels clicking and her arms spread as she approached us. I straightened my stance and tugged at the hem of my dress.

“Mother,” Roman acknowledged. His tone was sharp, and his teeth didn’t part around the word. “This is my girlfriend, Amy Underwood.”

“Oh!” She didn’t pause, just walked straight toward me and hugged me tightly.

A small “oomf” shot from my chest, because for a small woman, she had a viselike grip. I was taken a little off guard, but between the awesomeness of getting to meet Roman’s parents and the magic of an anxiety pill, my nerves we manageable.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Amy,” she said, pulling away but keeping her hands on my arms to examine me. Her smile reached her eyes in a true, genuine way that made me happy inside. She was so warm and motherly, I was instantly at ease.

“Amy, this is Regina, my mother.”

“It’s very nice to meet you too.” I smiled.

She looked so polished. Her short, dark hair was simply and perfectly styled, and her expression was kind.

“Well, isn’t this a treat?” she said and looked at her husband, gently smacking his shoulder. “Michael, Roman brought a girl home.” She seemed really happy about that, and leaned in to whisper to me loud enough for everyone to hear, “Roman’s never brought a girl home. You must be very special.”

Her eyes were beaming with joy, and I felt like I was truly welcome.

Michael nodded and smiled. He seemed like a nice enough man. Not overly uptight or brooding, as I might have expected a congressman to be.

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