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his back like this and it made her feel childlike, small and wrong.
One out of three was true.
He turned around and somehow, the unbre a chable was broken, the wall of thorns stripped away, the wall vanquished, as his arms wrapped around her shoulders and she twined hers about his waist. The heady aroma of orange and mint on his hands now had the scent of hope and renewal, of wholehearted love and faith.
Mike was so tall, so stalwart and steady, that she had taken for granted that his sheer size meant he was unbreakable, never shaken, always strong. Selfish of her to think it, she now realized.
He was fallible. And soft and vulnerable like her, too.
On the inside.
“When you acted like it was no big deal and Dylan said I should get over it and just take two nights in a row you both really made me feel as if my feelings didn’t matter. How I felt in that moment has nothing to do with divvying up everything. It was a feeling, and they can’t be spreadsheeted.”
Her smile made her lip catch on of the buttons on the front of his shirt, which made her sniffle, which made her snort, which made him laugh.
“Sorry.” She coughed. “I always get a stuffy nose when I cry.”
“I know.”
She loved that he knew. He pulled her back and gently wiped each tear from her face, the pad of his fingers tracing the path, w o rking to give the rolling drop eternal companionship, a traveling partner in pain.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For telling me why you’ve been so closed up. And for having the courage to open up after I didn’t treat you well.”
Dylan’s voice surprised her from behind. “ We didn’t treat you well.” With a half-turn she could see him, a sleeping Jillian on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, dude. I had no idea you were that bothered.”
Mike arched an eyebrow and Laura got it. Got it. What Dylan said wasn’t an apology. She thought it was, and Dylan probably did as well, but seeing someone else deliver it like this gave her a new perspective.
“Dylan,” she said quietly. “The fact that he was bothered at all is something we all need to deal with. It’s not just Mike’s issue.”
Mike nodded quietly, his chin bobbing against the top of her head. “You get it,” he whispered, squeezing her gently.
Blinking hard, Dylan shifted the baby to the other shoulder, resettling her head on his shoulder as she snored lightly. Absentmindedly, he stroked her hair, cupping the back of her head in a soothing manner that made Laura so ridiculously happy she co u ldn’t put words to it.
“I think I understand. I basically just fake apologized, huh?”
Mike nodded.
“Like ‘I’m sorry you were offended’? Where I’m apologizing for your emotional reaction and not for my action?” Dylan’s lips pursed with the intensity of his realization.
“Someone’s been watching Dr. Phil,” Mike replied, as if impressed. Laura bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
Dylan pointed to the sleeping baby. “Blame her. Three o’clock nap.” His brown eyes went soft as they jumped between Laura and Mike, friendly and apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mike.”
“Much better,” Mike said, a sad smile on his face.
“But…?” Dylan a nd Laura said in unison, drawing out the word like a question .
“Something’s off. I don’t know how to put it in words.” Mike pulled back, leaving Laura frantically scrambling inside, like a gerbil on a wheel. Not knowing how to get off, but getting nowhere by being so panicked.
Dylan looked as worried as she was, which was a comfort. I t’s not just me .
“And maybe it is me, but it’s not just me,” Mike said . “ We’ve been through so much in what feels like a short time span.” The look he gave Dylan made Laura focus on Mike’s eyes, so dark and conflicted, yet childlike in their openness and blessedly hopeful nature. The churning inside him was coming to the surface and she could taste his fear. What could be the source of this?
“Jill died, then
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