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I smack his arm and this seems to lessen the tension in the air. “Yeah…you did.”
“Still do, you know.”
Our eyes lock for what feels like an eternity until suddenly the weight of all my emotions becomes too much to bear and I break down in a fit of uncontrollable sobs. My vision blurs with tears as I am overcome by all the feelings I have been trying to keep hidden over the past six months.
“Hey,” he says quietly as he reaches over and pulls me into his lap. His arms wrap firmly around me as his face buries into my neck, the rhythm of his breaths like a metronome to count my own. “Nothing has changed, princess. Six months apart doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. I’m just as consumed by you as I was the day you left…maybe even more so.”
He pulls away slightly so our eyes can meet and, without restraint, I lean in and press my lips to his. Every rogue emotion, every tough night, every celebration over the past six months does nothing but pale in comparison to the joy I feel right now.
“I love you,” I sob against his mouth, causing a grin to spread across his lips.
“I love you too.”
FIFTY-FIVE
HANNAH
The moment I step into Andre’s, my stomach lurches as if I’m in freefall. My palms begin to sweat and my heart races at the thought of seeing my mother again. It has been six months since Jackson and Gen’s wedding, and I can feel an impending panic attack coming on.
The lunchtime hustle and bustle has quieted as the restaurant is now almost empty save for a few couples scattered across the dining room. Most of them are well over fifty-five, speaking in low murmurs, their faces wrinkled with age but radiating contentment as they enjoy Andre’s early bird special.
In recent months, the signature roast chicken has gone from being a Monday delicacy to a fixture on the permanent menu, much to Liam’s delight. The smell of the dish causes my mouth to water as we’re ushered to our seats—a table at the back of the restaurant where both Liam and my parents sit. Initially, Jackson and Gen were slated to join us, but the more we thought about it, the more we thought that it would be better to do this alone.
Over the past six months, I’ve thought at length about what I might say to my mom when I saw her again. We didn’t talk for the expanse of the entire tour, so I can’t imagine her attitude toward me has changed for the better.
“Hannah.” Caroline grins from ear to ear as she stands and envelopes me in a tight hug. The warmth of her welcoming embrace gives me the comfort I need as I sit down to what is sure to be the most tense meal I’ve had since Jackson and Gen’s rehearsal dinner.
“Hey, sweetie,” my dad says with a smile.
“Hi, Dad.”
We all exchange pleasantries as I settle into my seat opposite my mother, this time with Liam by my side. His fingers are looped through my own, a far cry from the dynamic we had at the last meal we shared with our parents together.
“You have no idea how happy this makes me,” Caroline says as she beams with delight, her grin a stark catalyst to my mother’s scowl.
To my understanding, things have only gotten more estranged between my mom and Liam. I know I should be concerned; I know I should hope that the man I love would have a good relationship with my parents, but I can’t will myself to care about it.
Why would I hope for him to have a relationship with them when I barely want a relationship with them?
Liam’s lips land against my temple as he squeezes my hand tightly at his mother’s words.
While I haven’t spoken to my parents since leaving for the tour, I’ve spoken to Caroline and Stephen on more than one occasion. They’ve not only been supportive of mine and Liam’s relationship, but they’ve been so enthusiastic it’s almost terrifying.
“How was the rest of the tour?” Stephen asks as he takes a bite of the side salad in front of him.
“It was amazing! We go back on the road in August for another leg of the tour, but this time it’ll be a year. The initial reception was more than they were expecting, so they’re confident in adding more shows.”
“That’s incredible, Hannah. We are so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Stephen.”
My mom scoffs and I fight everything in me not to cower at her response. I knew she would have an opinion. Despite me successfully earning my union card and booking a major tour, it’s still not good enough. At this point, I can’t say for sure if anything I do will ever be good enough for her.
“Did you say something, Mom?” I turn to find her looking at me with a disgusted expression, but rather than allowing it to pull me down, I simply return the energy.
“When do you return to Baker & Park?” she asks.
“I’m not?” I pose it almost as a question, but the idea is so preposterous that I am thrown off.
