Chapter twenty-seven
Abigail-Ann
“In the end, we discover that to love and let go can be the same thing.”
~ Jack Kornfield
I groaned as sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, stabbing my eyes the moment I dared to open them. My head throbbed—a blunt reminder of last night’s one-too-many drinks. A muffled knock sounded at the door, pulling me from bed.
I shuffled to the door and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror: a disheveled mess in a pair of shorts and a bra, my hair sticking out in all directions. I grimaced, but opened the door anyway.
“Good morning,” Mikkel greeted me, an energetic smile on his face. He held up a brown paper bag, a bouquet of primroses, and a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like an energy drink. “Thought you might need these. ”
“Thank you.” I stepped aside to let him in, my brain too foggy to muster a proper greeting. “What’s in the bag?”
“Breakfast,” he said, setting the bag on the kitchen counter. “Bagels, cream cheese, some fruit, a couple of those hangover cure shots from the convenience store, flowers and something we’ll look at later.”
Something we’ll look at later? I didn’t question it, but I made a mental note to ask him about it.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I mumbled, already tearing into a bagel. “These are perfect.”
He watched me with amusement as I took my first bite. “You drank too much.”
“Yeah,” I said, my mouth full.
“Next time,” he said, his tone turning serious, “let’s find other ways to sublimate.”
“Right, and thank you. I woke up tucked into bed, makeup off, and out of that dress, so thank you.”
“You’re always welcome,” he replied.
“I’m gonna shower,” I said, finishing my bagel.
“Take your time,” he replied.
After a quick shower, I threw on some shorts and a top. I headed into the living room and settled on the sofa next to him.
“I haven’t taken you out in a bit,” Mikkel mused, biting into a bagel. “And I haven’t planned anything either.”
“Things are good how they are,” I said softly.
It was still hard to believe I deserved more than what I was used to. The shift—from being lusted to being truly loved—felt almost too big to grasp.
He sighed, leaning in. His voice was quiet, but it hit deep. “I hate that he made you think that’s all you deserve.” His fingers brushed mine, deliberate. “But I’ll always chase you like I never had you, because that’s the love you deserve. One that never gets complacent. One that’s always reaching, always wanting more.”
I swallowed. “Chase me?”
His lips curved slightly as he lifted my hand, pressing a slow kiss to my knuckles. “I’ll never stop trying to win your heart, baby. I’ll always want to impress you, make you smile, surprise you. You deserve more than something easy or expected.” His thumb traced slow circles on my wrist. “You’re worth the effort. You’re worth the chase.”
My heart wasn’t just fluttering. It was in freefall.
“You make me speechless, Mikkel,” I whispered.
And for the first time, I thought… Maybe I wanted to be chased.
Then I blinked, remembering. “What was it you said we’d look at later?”
“Right.” He reached for the bag beside him, unzipping it with a smooth flick. My breath caught as he pulled out the gold necklace I’d admired last night, the diamonds catching the light. Then came the matching bracelets, each one glimmering like scattered stars.
“M-Mikkel,” I stammered, jaw slack. “You got me this?”
“You mentioned it last night,” he said simply. “So I got it this morning.”
My mind reeled. I barely even remember mentioning it.
“You just… went and got it?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” he said, watching me closely. “I thought it’d make you happy.”
Emotion swelled in my chest, so fast, so intense , that I launched myself into his lap, arms winding around his neck.
“This is… Mikkel, what? This was expensive. The tag said thirty thousand dollars.”
“Sixty-five,” he corrected with a shrug, hand resting on my thigh.
I jerked back, stunned. “Sixty-five thousand dollars?”
His gaze held steady. “It’s not expensive.”
Not expensive.
Was he just casually dropping nearly a hundred grand on jewelry?
I blinked at him, my thoughts a tangled mess—until his hand covered mine, grounding me instantly.
I rolled my eyes, nudging his shoulder. “That’s not the point, Mr. Suarez.”
He laughed, rich and effortless, clearly mirroring his bank account. “The point is, you saw it, you liked it… so now it’s yours.”
I had expensive things, sure. But nothing from someone I was with.
My parents? Of course .
My sister? Definitely.
A man? Never.
“Mikkel, you didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with quiet determination. “And I’m not going to apologize for spoiling you.”
Emotion swelled in my chest. Thank you didn’t feel like enough, so instead, I leaned in and kissed him.
When I pulled back, breathless, I whispered, “Thank you. For this. For everything.”
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face before pulling me close again. And just like that, the morning melted into easy laughter and quiet moments of comfort. We curled up on the couch, scrolling through movie options until we settled on a lineup of cheesy classics—starting with Clueless , then Legally Blonde , and finally wrapping up with The Holiday Calendar.
Mikkel turned to me with a knowing look. “Since Friday’s your day off, I was thinking of taking you on a date.”
I arched a brow, intrigued. “Back to this conversation again? What kind of date?”
He smirked, leaning back into the cushions. “That’s a surprise. But I’m picking you up on Friday.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You know I hate surprises.”
“All the more reason it’s going to be perfect.”
The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence as the credits rolled. Mikkel’s hand rested on the arm of the couch, his lips curved into a faint smile—but I didn’t miss the flicker of weariness in his eyes, the quiet frustration lingering beneath the surface.
I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. “Hey,” I said gently, my voice cutting through the quiet. “What’s wrong?”
He paused for a beat, his smirk faltering just slightly before it returned. “Just tired,” he muttered, glancing away for a moment.
I raised an eyebrow, watching him more closely. “You work too hard, Mikkel. ”
He shrugged, his posture slumping just enough to show the weight of the words. “It’s what I do.”
I let out a quiet sigh, my gaze softening as I reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “I just hope you know you’re doing great,” I said sincerely. “All of this... you’re amazing.”
His smile widened, a rare vulnerability slipping into his voice. “Thank you, Red.”
I stared at him for a moment, a thought forming in my mind which caused my eyes to light up. “I have an idea.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Tell me.”
Without warning, I grabbed his hand and tugged him up from the couch. “Come with me,” I said, guiding him toward the bathroom. “Let me cut your hair.”
Mikkel blinked, surprise and amusement flashing across his face. “You want to cut my hair?”
I nodded, grinning. “Trust me.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I trust you.”
A few minutes later, I was standing behind him, my fingers working with careful precision as I trimmed the ends of his dark hair. The sound of scissors snipping and his occasional low chuckles filled the air, making the room feel cozy in its own way.
When I was halfway through, I stepped back, admiring my handiwork. “See,” I said, brushing my hands together in satisfaction.
He turned his head, running a hand through his hair and giving me a grin. “I never doubted you, Red.”
I beamed. “Let me finish up.”
By the time I finished trimming his hair, a comfortable silence settled between us. The simple act of doing something just for him felt intimate. His neatly styled hair and relaxed jaw made him look effortlessly sexy—so much so, it stole my breath for a moment. Stepping back, I smiled, marveling at how the small change softened his stress, even if only for a brief moment.
“All done,” I said, gently tapping his shoulder .
He turned to face me, running his fingers through his freshly cut hair. A lazy smile spread across his face.
“ Muchas gracias, mi amor, 58 ” he said, his voice soft. “I needed that.”
Before I could respond, he glanced at his watch, his expression shifting. “It’s almost time for your shift, and I have a call.”
I nodded. “I’ll get ready for work.”
As he stepped into the next room, his voice turning all business, I tidied up—putting away the scissors, sweeping up the hair—then took a quick shower. After changing into a simple shirt and gathering my curls into a puff, I found Mikkel still on his call, pacing the living room, his focus elsewhere.
Grabbing my bag, I waited near the door, not wanting to interrupt. The moment he hung up, his gaze lifted, softening as it landed on me. “Ready?”
I nodded, slipping on my coat as we headed out.
The city hummed with life, downtown traffic crawling as we drove. I settled into my seat, absently tapping my fingers against my lap. Then, without warning, Mikkel pulled off to the side of the road.
I glanced at him in confusion.
“I’m buying you lunch,” he said with a grin, nodding toward the familiar Chipotle sign.
I beamed, warmth blooming in my chest at the small gesture. “You’re the best.”
A moment later, he handed me the warm bowl, and my smile deepened.
“Thank you,” I murmured, taking a bite as he refocused on the road.
As we neared the bookstore, he slowed to the curb. His fingers brushed against mine before he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. Brief but grounding, it settled something deep inside me.
“Take care of yourself, please,” I whispered, my hand still resting on his.
His thumb traced gentle circles over my knuckles before he kissed me again—this time slower, more tender. “I’ll be fine. Just call me when you’re done so I can come get you.”
With a small nod, I stepped out of the car, my heart full. “I will. Have a good day.”
Even as I walked to the entrance, his gaze remained—steady, unwavering. A sense of comfort settled over me, wrapping around me as I started my shift.