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There’s something different in his smile as he walks toward her, then brushes a strand of hair off her face that’s close to her open mouth. Gently, he scoops her up and adjusts her in his arms. Frankie’s head lolls to his shoulder. “So fucking tired,” she mutters.
He presses a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know, älskade. Off to bed we go.” As he starts down the hall, he glances my way and stops. “Feel free to crash here tonight, just to play it safe.”
“I didn’t drink anything. But thank you.”
He frowns. “You didn’t?”
“Haven’t for weeks.”
His eyebrows rise. “I’m a jerk. I hadn’t noticed you weren’t drinking, Seb. I shouldn’t have had alcohol here if you were trying to avoid it—”
“Don’t think twice about it. I was absolutely fine.” I nod my chin toward the hallway. “Now put your wife to bed and get some sleep.”
He nods, smiling. “All right. Goodnight. Just text when you leave, and I’ll set the security, okay?”
“Will do.”
Just a minute after Ren disappears down the hall, Ziggy strolls into the main room, rubbing the shells of her ears, which are red and seem irritated. She glances up and does a double take, smiling at me. “Hey.”
I stare at her, surrounded by the wreckage of a truly wonderful party—the first I’ve ever had that I can remember being happy at, let alone sober for. I have a thousand photographic memories stashed in my brain from tonight—I feel so damn grateful that she stars in most of them.
I feel so damn grateful for her.
More than grateful, I feel… Fuck, what I feel shouldn’t have the name that it does. I don’t let myself even think the word. I can’t. Not yet. Not when I’m so far from where I want to be, from what she deserves.
“How ya doing?” she asks, tossing her abandoned elf ears onto the kitchen island. She slumps against the counter, all long, lithe arms and tired, lovely eyes.
“Exhausted,” I tell her. “You?”
She nods, yawning loudly. “Exhausted.”
“Ready to go?”
She tips her head, peering up at me. “Yeah. I am. Will you drive me home?”
“Of course.”
Sighing, she pushes off the counter and grabs her elf ears off its surface, before scooping up a duffel bag by the door, waiting for me as I gather up my gluten-free-baked-goods leftovers.
Her smile is tired but happy when I open the front door and set a hand at her back as she steps outside. I lock the handle behind us, then text Ren we’re gone so he can set his security.
Slowly, we walk to the car, and Ziggy flops into her seat.
And then I drive us in the quiet, because I like quiet with Ziggy, how we can simply be in it, together. It feels familiar and comfortable. Safe.
As I pull up in front of her building, I glance her way and feel my heart twist. She’s asleep, her head resting against the window glass. Gently, I brush back a strand of hair from her temple.
“Sigrid.”
“Hmm.”
I smile as she lolls her head my way, eyes still shut.
“Home.”
She sighs. “Not home.”
“If you’d open those big green eyes, you’d see you are.”
