Chapter Thirteen
Abigail-Ann
“Love is the bridge between you and everything.”
~ Rumi
I never truly considered what moving meant. I was starting over in a new city, away from my parents and sister, and I knew I’d miss our late-night talks, Mom’s lasagna, and the comfort of having family nearby. I would miss San Francisco and the familiarity it brought, but I knew I had to keep moving forward.
You’d think my years with Joshua would haunt me, but my thoughts were consumed by Mikkel instead. His words made me feel alive and understood, like he knew exactly what I needed to hear. Conversations with him were effortless, as if we’d known each other forever. His small gestures made me smile, and his genuine interest in my passions surprised me—especially when I found out he was a true Lana fan, not just name-dropping her for the sake of flirting.
When I shared that Born to Die was my comfort album, he texted, “Same here. Especially Video Games . It’s like living in a memory that’s both beautiful and painful.” Then, I joked about Norman Fucking Rockwell! being my study music, and he sent a breakdown of why Venice Bitch was the perfect escape. His thoughtful responses kept me hooked, but the sound of the movers closing the truck doors snapped me back. They finished loading and waved goodbye, the delay caused by Mom repacking everything after criticizing our packing— typical Alicia. I took a deep breath and made my way to the back patio, where my family was waiting.
“Sweetheart,” Mom’s voice was gentle, a soft smile touching her lips as she patted the space beside her. “The movers finished?”
I nodded, exhaling as I sank onto the couch. “They just left.”
“Perfect. We need to talk.”
A knot formed in my stomach. “What’s up?”
“You’re moving, and we need to know you have a plan. If not, we’ll help make one.”
I nodded again, trying to ignore the creeping anxiety. “I mean, I plan to get a job, but right now, I’m focused on getting everything moved first. Then graduation.”
“What kind of work are you thinking about?” Dad’s voice was calm, but concern lingered beneath it. He clasped his hands together, leaning forward.
Before I could answer, Aurora chimed in, her voice full of certainty. “She’s going to work in a bookstore. I called a friend at Book Culture—they need staff, so I recommended Abi.”
I blinked, warmth spreading in my chest. Time and time again, Aurora had my back without me even asking. She made life feel easier, like I wasn’t constantly scrambling to figure it all out alone. I turned to her, mouthing a silent “Thank you.”
She winked in response, as if to say, Always .
“Perfect. And after the degree?”
“ Pops ,” Aurora interjected, firm but affectionate. “Don’t pressure her. When she graduates, things will fall into place. ”
Dad’s shoulders loosened slightly, but the worry didn’t fully fade. “I just need to know she’ll be okay.”
I met his gaze, hoping to ease his concerns. “After graduation, I’ll apply for apprenticeships and focus on building my career.”
He nodded, satisfied, but not before asking, “Speaking of graduation—your fees are settled, right?”
“Yes, Dad.”
Without another word, he pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. Inside was a bank card.
“Six thousand a month for rent and expenses, until you’re on your feet. Consider it an early graduation gift.”
I sucked in a breath, my fingers tightening around the card. A lump rose in my throat, the weight of their unwavering support pressing into my chest. “Thank you. How will I ever repay you?”
Mom placed a gentle hand on my thigh, grounding me. “You’ve made us proud, Princess. We promised to always support you and your sister.”
Emotion thickened my voice. “You’re amazing parents.”
The heaviness in my chest eased, replaced by something softer—reassurance, love.
For the rest of the evening, we stayed right there. Talking, laughing, just being .
Later, Azzaria and I texted about her hot billionaire, whom she still couldn’t wrap her head around, my packing progress, and her plans for the week. We chatted until she had to get ready for a night out with her mom.
I purposely avoided mentioning my breakup. It wasn’t something I wanted to discuss over the phone.
As I settled in for the night, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. Mikkel’s name lit up the screen, and an involuntary warmth spread through my chest. My stomach did a little flip—annoying and impossible to ignore.
Lately, he was everywhere. A New York Post article. A Good Morning America interview. His confidence was magnetic, the way he spoke—sharp, controlled, relentless. And maybe I wasn’t actively keeping up with him, but the algorithm sure thought I was .
I hesitated before opening his message, but before I could fully process why, another thought snuck in.
Shouldn’t I feel more after leaving Joshua?
The guilt crept in, slow and insidious. Shouldn’t I feel heartbroken? Shouldn’t I be wallowing in regret?
But I wasn’t.
And that scared me more than anything.
I let out a slow breath, staring at the phone in my hand. Maybe I didn’t have all the answers yet. Maybe I was still figuring it out.
But for the first time in five years, I felt free .
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Hey Red
God, I loved when he called me Red.
Me: Hey!
@mikkelsuarezofficial: You seem happy today. What’s up?
Me: Lounging around the house and you?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Packing for my flight.
Me: Leaving Chicago already?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Yeah. I just went for a meeting.
Me: How was it?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: It went great. Thanks for asking.
Me: Of course.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Your profile picture is gorgeous, by the way.
I pressed my lips together, heat blooming across my skin.
Me: Thank you!
Me: Flattery will get you everywhere.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: It got me where I needed, I’ll be good.
Me: And where did you need to be?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Talking to you.
My stomach did an embarrassing little flip.
Me: Are you always such a flirt?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: That would imply me flirting with others, and I tend not to.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: I only flirt with you, Red.
I stared at my screen, heart hammering. He was too smooth for his own good.
Me: You really are smooth.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Will smoothness get me everywhere too?
Me: Smoothness, sincerity, and a good sense of humor. That’s a winning combination.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: I’ve got at least two out of three, right?
Me: I’d say you’re batting a solid three for three, Mikkel.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Flattery will get you everywhere too, huh?
Me: When it’s deserved, why not?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Well, in that case, I’ll keep trying to earn it.
Me: And I’ll keep appreciating it.
@mikkelsuarezofficial reacted to this message.
Me: What’s next for you to do today?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Get to the airport. You?
Me: Sleeping because I spent all week packing.
Me: Also, you wouldn’t believe what my mother did!
@mikkelsuarezofficial: What happened?
Me: She unpacked the boxes my sister and I packed because it apparently wasn’t done properly.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: That’s some serious commitment to getting it done her way. *laughing emoji*
Me: Right? She’s impossible to deal with sometimes.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Well, at least you don’t have to worry about it being done wrong.
Me: I’m just glad it’s over because moving is exhausting.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: I bet. Especially with all those boxes... What time did you finally finish?
Me: Around 9. I might sleep for a week.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: You deserve it after all that. Get some rest, carino 36 and text me whenever you’re up.
I reacted to the message, then translated what he said, and nearly fell off the bed.
Sweetheart.
He called me sweetheart.
I set my phone down to charge, Mikkel’s texts still lingering in my mind, a smile tugging at my lips. Curling up in bed, the soft sheets wrapped around me like a warm embrace. With thoughts of him drifting through my head, I closed my eyes, letting sleep carry me into a world where anything felt possible.