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TWENTY-SIX
“Come here,”Zed’s mom flung her arms around both of us as we reached the bottom stair.
I clung to his hand awkwardly, not sure what to do. My own mother had only hugged me maybe one time that I remembered; she was usually either drunk, high, or just plain mean.
A lot like my dad, actually.
It had never occurred to me just how similar they were until that moment. I guess because while she’d only attacked with words, he’d done so much more.
A shudder rolled down my spine at the thoughts and memories, and I pushed them back into the steel box I tried to keep them in.
“I was worried when you disappeared,” she clucked, looking at Zed. Then, she focused on me. “Damn, you’re beautiful.” Her hands cupped my face.
I tried not to flinch at the sudden contact.
“You’re lucky, Zed.”
“I know, mom.” He peeled her hands off my face, and brushed at my cheeks lightly, as if in apology. “Go easy on the touching.”
“Alright, fine. I’ve got breakfast ready at my house though—and Zach and Melody are already there, and they can’t wait to meet June.”
“Mom,” Zed warned.
“No, it’s alright. I’m starving,” I admitted.
“What did you make?” he asked her.
She rolled her eyes toward me, as if saying, “My picky chef son.”
I fought a smile, even though I was pretty sure he was only asking for my sake.
“Biscuits and gravy. From scratch, with the recipe you like. Melody is finishing it up as we speak, so let’s go.” She waved us toward the door.
Zed looked at me, and though he didn’t say anything, I read his eyes loud and clear.
If I told him I didn’t want to go, we wouldn’t go.
I dipped my head in a nod, and he grabbed my hand. Then he grabbed his keys off the kitchen countertop, where he’d dropped them before we left, and we headed out.
Breakfast was surprisingly comfortable.Zed’s parents, brother, and sister-in-law were constantly asking what they could get us, how we liked the meal, how things were going for us, and etc. It was a bit overwhelming, but I could tell that all of it was coming from a place of love.
I could definitely see why Zed felt out of place with them, though. Where he was calm, quiet, and playful, they were energetic and enthusiastic. Which was great; they were genuinely kind, and sweet. But they ran at a speed very, very different from the one Zed and I had stuck to so far.
We drove back quietly, both of us pretty exhausted, and collapsed back in bed when we got home.
We got backup when our stomachs were growling again and the sun was setting. We ate some freezer meals (there were a hell of a lot of them) before heading out to work on replacing our phones. I ended up having to stop at my bank to cancel my cards, and by the time we headed back home, Zed had somehow convinced me to cosign with him on a contract for our townhouse—which was apparently completely paid off—so that it was ours, not just his.
When we got home, we sat down and ate some more of our freezer meals. Not gonna lie, it was awesome to be mated to someone who loved to cook and was so damn good at it.
“We were supposed to have a conversation about our future, before I ran away,” I admitted to Zed, stabbing a few veggies with my fork.
“Mmhm.” He was chewing, so he didn’t answer with words.
“I think you should go back to work. I like what we have going, but I need some more space. Everything has gotten really intense, really fast. And I don’t want us to backpedal, but I want to figure out who I am now. I haven’t felt like me in way too long.”
He nodded, swallowing his food. “That’s fair.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised by how agreeable he was, but I was. “Do you think you can get your old job back?”
