26. Mira

26

MIRA

"God, I love a boozy brunch!" Taylor declares, raising her wine for the third toast in the last half hour.

I tap my glass to hers. "It's four in the afternoon."

"Yeah, well, some of us don't have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to get kids off to school. I slept in today. For me, this is brunch."

To be fair, this is brunch for me, too. I dropped Aiden off at preschool, went to the gym for a kickboxing class, and then had to distract Evan with some fake threat in the parking lot so I could ask the front desk about security footage in the locker rooms.

The woman looked at me like I was soliciting her for pictures of her feet. "It's illegal to have cameras in the locker rooms for… obvious reasons."

I tried to convey to her that I wasn't trying to get naked footage of my fellow gym-goers and was, instead, trying to see who vandalized my locker, but first impressions are hard to undo. She thought I was a creep and had no intention of being part of whatever weird fetish she thought I had.

"Me, too!" Jemma chimes in. "I mean, I still had to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to get a kid to school, but I went to bed at eight last night. I slept for, like, nine hours. Going to bed early is as close to sleeping in as I get these days."

Rachelle shakes her head. "I have no idea how you can sleep when Reeves isn't home. When Jace is gone for games, I sleep like shit. I tossed and turned for a couple hours last night before I got up and deep-cleaned the fridge." She shivers. "Some of the leftovers in there were older than Gallagher."

I didn't sleep well, either.

I haven't in days.

Evan stayed in the spare room last night at Zane's request, and I didn't even attempt to argue. Having someone close by helped me get at least a couple hours of sleep in the big, empty bed. Then I woke up early this morning and found a black jewelry box sitting just outside my door.

Panic sliced through me for half a second before I saw Evan's large note on the floor next to it. Zane asked me to leave this for you.

My hand shifts to the necklace sitting just above my collarbone the way it has repeatedly all day. I run my thumb over the little charms and smile.

"What's that?" Taylor swats my hand out of the way and lets out a tipsy scream. "Oh my God!"

The patrons of Café Bisou glare at our table over their patisseries, and I slap a hand over Taylor's mouth. "Can we not make a scene?"

She mumbles something about Zane and jewelry before she rips my hand away and keeps going at full volume. "—never thought I'd see the day that my bestie would be in a real relationship." She waves Jemma and Rachelle closer. "Look at this! Hockey sticks with their initials."

My friends lean in, fawning over the delicate charms. On the back of each hockey stick is a "Z" and an "A." For my boys.

"That is the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Can Zane give Reeves gift-giving tips? To him, that ‘Dick in a Box' song is not a joke." Jemma's smile wavers somewhere between a laugh and a grimace. "He would absolutely give me his dick in a box."

I decide not to tell them that the necklace also came with a note in Zane's handwriting. I have it folded inside of my purse right now. I reread it in the parking lot like a smiling idiot before coming inside.

I plan to get you a much more expensive piece of jewelry the second I'm positive you'll accept it. Until then, I'll claim you like this.

I'd say I'm hearing wedding bells, but it's more likely they're blaring alarms. I still haven't told anyone about the Smuckers murder scene I found in my locker, though Zane came incredibly close to fucking it out of me the other night.

I want to imagine wearing a white dress and getting married to Zane. I want to picture Aiden as a little ringbearer and me pleading my undying love for Zane in front of all of our family and friends.

But with everything else going on right now, dreams of a wedding quickly morph to include buckets of pig's blood and fiery death.

Not exactly the genre of daydream I'm going for.

"Shit!" Rachelle jumps up, almost knocking over our teensy cafe-style table and earning even more glares from the people around us. "We gotta go, girls. The open house starts in half an hour."

Taylor offers to pay the tab. "It's the least I can do since you all are about to spend your night looking at preschool art."

"I'm actually kind of excited," I admit. "A couple months ago, Aiden was drawing pictures of me as a head with arms and legs growing out of it, but now, he does bodies with necks and everything."

"Wow. Necks ," Taylor drawls. "I see we're setting the bar high."

I'm not just excited to see a picture of me with a neck; I'm also excited because the team's plane arrived a couple hours ago and the men are meeting us at the school.

As soon as we pull up, my head is on a swivel, searching the crowd for Zane.

Rachelle elbows Jemma as we walk through the doors of the school. "Zane knew what he was doing with that necklace. He is sooo getting lucky tonight."

"Again," Jemma pants, "someone tell Reeves. I'd be hunting for him like that if he left me cute gifts, too."

Rachelle spots Gallagher standing in front of a full-sized self-portrait that looks mostly like a chalk outline of a dead body, and she splits off. Then Jalen stands on a table in the back corner of the gym and waves his arms over his head, calling for Jemma.

"There's my hooligan." She squeezes my arm as she leaves. "Catch up later?"

I nod and navigate through endless tables of soap boats and lemon batteries and dioramas that explain the water cycle until I see a shock of blonde hair sitting on top of a set of broad shoulders.

As soon as Aiden sees me, he starts smacking Zane's forehead. "She's over there! I see her!"

Zane winces and nods. By the time I make it to them, he's sliding Aiden off of his shoulders.

"We couldn't find you and we got desperate. I almost lost an eye." Zane pulls me in for a quick kiss. Our lips press and hold for slightly longer than necessary. When he pulls back, Zane's gaze shifts to my necklace. "You like it?"

My hand flies to the hockey sticks for what has to be the hundredth time today. "I love it. More than anything. Thank you."

"I meant what I said in that note." He leans in, his voice low enough that I feel the rumble of it in my toes. "Give me the sign and I'll get you something even better."

I try to match his smile, but it's bittersweet. From where I'm standing, that kind of happily-ever-after moment is a long, long way off.

Before Zane can notice my half-assed smile, a woman with a red braid and a prairie-style dress pops her head in. "Hi there! I'm Mrs. Wilson, Aiden's teacher."

Aiden darts between me and Zane to wrap his arms around Mrs. Wilson's legs.

"You just saw her an hour ago, bud." Zane tries to pry Aiden back, but he holds tight.

Mrs. Wilson laughs and squeezes him back. "It's okay. This is the best part of the job. Preschoolers always let you know exactly how they feel about you."

I don't look to confirm, but I swear I feel Zane's eyes slip to me.

I'll have to tell him about the locker eventually. But not until I'm sure it was Dante who did it. There's no sense freaking everyone out if it was some random, senseless prank, after all.

I'm halfway lost in my head, trying to decide what kind of search I'd need to do to find out if teenagers are pranking people with strawberry jelly, when Aiden's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"This is my dad." He loops one arm around Zane's leg and then loops the other around mine, tugging on my knee. "And this is my mom."

The record that is my life scratches.

I stand perfectly still, afraid that any tiny movement might shatter this obvious daydream I've stumbled into.

"It's so nice to meet Aiden's parents." Mrs. Wilson shakes Zane's hand and then holds her hand out to mine, oblivious to the riot of thoughts bouncing around my head. I don't move until Zane nudges me gently in the side. I finally take her hand and she grins. "Aiden talks about you both all the time."

I should be listening. Mrs. Wilson is telling us how great Aiden is doing in class and how many friends he has. She's rattling off a list of accolades and praise that I would be absolutely giddy to hear if I wasn't deep in an existential spiral.

Zane answers for both of us, saying all of the right things, I'm sure. Even though, again, I'm existentially spiraling.

Mrs. Wilson points Aiden towards Gallagher's self-portrait and the two of them head over to admire his classmate's work.

As soon as Zane and I are alone, he turns me towards him. "You're freaking out."

"Nope. I'm fine."

"You're not." He massages warmth into my arms. "But you should be. Aiden loves you."

"But I'm not his mom," I blurt.

It hurts to say it. To admit the undeniable truth out loud.

"As much as I want to be, I'm not. And I'm not sure I should let him call me… that . What would Paige think?"

"I have no idea what Paige would think. Because she's dead." I gasp and Zane just shrugs. "She isn't here. But you are. I don't intend to erase Paige or lie to Aiden about anything, but I've told you from the beginning that you're good for Aiden. He loves you."

"I love him, too. Of course I do. But?—"

"You can stop there. That's all that matters. You love him. As far as I'm concerned, he's as much yours as he is mine." Zane pulls me against his side, and I can see the whole gym. All the families that look as normal here as we do. "We all belong to each other now, Mira. And nothing is going to change that."

Zane's words stick with me the rest of the night. While I admire Aiden's family portrait and we walk around, hand-in-hand, to look at all of the science projects.

On the ride home when Aiden recaps every single moment from the entire event, even the ones we were there for, while Zane squeezes my thigh across the console.

Especially when I poke my head in Aiden's door as Zane is putting him to bed.

They're huddled under the blankets with a book between them. The reading lamp in the corner casts them in a soft, yellow glow.

"Goodnight, buddy."

Aiden smiles so hard his eyes go squinty. "Goodnight. I love you!"

Emotion clogs my throat and it takes two tries before I can squeeze the words out. "I love you, too."

I slip across the hall to my bedroom and, alone in the quiet, give myself permission to imagine this forever.

I may not know what a normal family looks like, but surely I can figure it out. Hell, maybe we already have. Maybe this is it!

We all belong to each other now. Nothing is going to change that.

Can that be true?

I lean against the door under the weight of a future I want, but don't know if I can have, until I need to do something.

I kick my sandals into the closet and straighten the books on my nightstand. Then I drag my gym bag off of the end of the bed and move to hang it on the hook behind the door, but a slip of paper falls out.

It floats to the floor like a falling leaf, swaying back and forth before it comes to rest on the carpet.

It might as well be a grenade.

Without even looking, I know this is the other shoe I've been waiting for.

I don't even want to touch it, but I force myself across the floor and pick it up with trembling fingers. Somehow, after all these years, I recognize his handwriting.

I remember strawberries were always your favorite. Sorry I missed you. Catch you next time, little sister.

Before the words can even sink into my panicked brain, I sprint into the bathroom and flush Dante's note down the toilet.

It was him. He's here.

My heart is racing and I'm trembling, but when I hear Zane come into the bedroom, it's still his words that echo in my head.

This family is mine.

And nothing is going to take that away.