Chapter twenty-eight
Mikkel
“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.”
~ Alfred Tennyson
M y control was slipping. Maybe it was the long hours at the office or the constant demands coming at me from every direction, but everything felt wrong. The tension in my neck and the pounding in my head weighed heavier than usual, as if my body was rebelling against the pressure I refused to let up. I’d dealt with worse before, but this time, everything was stacking up—one thing after another—until I was teetering on the edge of snapping.
I tried to push through, focusing on the presentation in front of me. I meticulously adjusted every slide and fine-tuned every number, but even the smallest imperfection—a bracket out of place or a line slightly misaligned—set my teeth on edge. My fingers tapped against the desk, my irritation building with each futile attempt to regain control .
The expansion of Elite Rides was everything to me. Chicago was a success, but I needed that same outcome in every other state. Every detail had to be flawless—meetings, investor calls, follow-ups, and endless back-and-forth with my team. It all demanded perfection. And the more I pushed for it, the more it seemed to slip through my fingers.
Oddly enough, the best part of my week was the haircut Abigail gave me. It might sound ridiculous, but when her fingers brushed through my hair, her touch careful and deliberate, it soothed me in a way nothing else could. For a moment, I felt calm, the chaos and the crushing need for perfection fading into the background.
That calm vanished the moment I answered the phone. First, Arnoldo launched into a rant about zoning laws. Then, my mother called, dragging me into petty arguments with her and Emilia—like I wasn’t busy enough already.
This morning, though, I found some peace. I attended a seminar on women’s health, The Healing Path: Navigating Endometriosis and Chronic Pain . The women eyed me curiously, likely because I was the only man in attendance. One even recognized me and asked for a photo, which I agreed to with a smile. At the end of the session, I wrote a check for the awareness fund, hoping to contribute however I could.
But despite the calm of the morning, as I sat in the car parked outside Abigail’s therapist’s office, that restless energy clung to me like a second skin. No matter how much I tried to push it down, it wouldn’t leave.
The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. She slid into the seat, and before she could even settle, I leaned in, cupping her cheek as I pressed a deep, slow kiss to her lips.
“Hey, baby,” I murmured, my voice softer than the tension curling in my chest. “How was the session?”
“It was good,” she said, smiling up at me. That smile eased the tight coil of unease just a little.
I reached for the bag beside me, handing her lunch, watching the way her eyes lit up. That helped too .
“You’re definitely a mind reader,” she said, her voice light. “I was starving.”
I let her eat as we drove in silence, but I felt her eyes on me as we came to a stop.
“You’re tense,” she said after a while, her voice gentle.
“Just a tiring day,” I muttered, trying to hold back the frustration.
“Mikkel.” Her fingers brushed my jaw before cupping my cheek. I leaned into her touch instinctively. “You’ve been like this for a while.”
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice quieter. “Just a bit off today.”
She sighed but didn’t push. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Maybe later.”
She studied me before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll hold you to it.”
I chased her lips again, but she pulled away with a small smile, grabbing her bag. “Pick me up at the salon later. My nails need a refill, and I’m getting bohemian knotless braids.”
My lips twitched. “How much?”
“It’s fine.”
I pulled out a thousand in cash, tucked it into her purse, and kissed her palm before she could argue. “It’s not a discussion, mi amor 59 . I like knowing you’re taken care of.”
She shook her head but smiled, brushing her lips over mine. “I know you do. Thank you.”
“Always,” I whispered. “Can’t wait to see you later.”
She stepped out of the car, flashing one last smile before disappearing into the bookstore. As I watched her go, a tight knot formed in my chest. I needed to clear my head. Without thinking, I drove straight to Lucio’s house; he was the one person I could talk to.
A few minutes later, I pulled into his driveway. Sugar, his fluffy gray kitten, greeted me with a soft meow, brushing against my legs. I scratched behind her ears, then followed Lucio into the sitting room. Tall, lean, and with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see everything, he studied me silently as if he already knew why I was here.
“Drink?” Lucio asked, his deep voice warm.
I shook my head. “I’m good.”
He nodded and gestured for me to take a seat. We both sank into the adjacent arm chairs and I noticed his wife wasn’t here.
“So, where’s Marina?” I asked, trying to break the silence.
“She’s on a trip in Italy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you’re not with her.”
He laughed, taking a sip of his drink. “My jet’s flying me out there tomorrow. I get physically ill being away from my wife.”
I chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I know the feeling.”
Lucio looked at me and the smile slowly faded from his face. “You look like you’re about to explode, hermano , 60 ” he said, leaning back into the cushions.
I exhaled, rubbing my hand over my face. “I feel my grip on my anger slipping.”
Lucio chuckled softly. “Well, God had to give you the anger as a flaw or you’d be way too perfect, Suarez.”
I let out a short laugh, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little. “ Vete a la mierda. 61 ” I paused, taking a deep breath. “Speaking of perfection, the constant need for it is just as overwhelming as it is frustrating.”
Lucio raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Who’s holding you to that need?”
I leaned back, folding my arms. “I’m holding myself to it. It’s just who I am.”
Lucio tilted his head, studying me. “There’s something else bothering you. I’ve known you for a decade, and this side of you has always been there. It’s the one thing you’ve never really liked about yourself. So…”
I sighed, feeling the weight of his words, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to say it out loud. But I needed to get it off my chest.
“I told Abigail about it,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “I opened up about it a while ago, and I just feel different. It feels like maybe she’s scared, but I don’t know for sure. She doesn’t show it, but I know how much she can get lost in her head, and I don’t want her to feel like I’ll snap at her.”
Lucio was silent for a moment, his eyes softening. “You think she’s scared? No. You are, Mikkel.”
I looked up at him, confused. “What?”
“You’re just like me, Suarez,” Lucio said, his voice matter-of-fact. “We’re not talkers. We don’t open up unless it’s absolutely necessary. We stay out of the media, not by chance but because it’s a preference. And when Abigail came into your life, you wanted to make it perfect for her because of whatever you know she’s been through. You think sharing your vulnerabilities will make you less of a man in her eyes, but it won’t.”
I sat there, stunned by how well he read me, how he could peel back the layers I’d always worked on suppressing. I didn’t realize how much I was holding back until he put it into words.
I didn’t even notice that Sugar had curled up in my lap until I felt her claws pressing into my thigh.
“You’re scared of letting her see you like this,” he continued. “And that’s why you’re holding on to the anger, because it’s easier than showing her your weaknesses.”
I didn’t have a response. He was right, and that truth hit me harder than I expected.
He leaned back in his chair, his drink in hand, and a satisfied look on his face . “You’ve gotta let go of the idea that you need to be perfect for her. She’s with you because she wants to be, not because you’ve built some illusion around yourself. You’re allowed to have flaws, Mikkel.”
The weight in my chest started to lift, the tension in my shoulders easing as I let out a slow breath. Sugar stretched in my lap, her fluffy tail swishing lazily.
I gave Lucio a dry look, shaking my head. “You should add therapist to your portfolio. All this wisdom, and I didn’t even have to book an appointment. ”
He smirked, tipping his glass toward me. “Therapy’s too much work. I’ll stick to reading you like a book for free. Besides, I prefer my current job—drinking expensive scotch and being right.”
I laughed, the sound feeling lighter than it had all day. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”
“And yet we’re best friends.”
“Yet we are.” I stood up, gently moving Sugar off my lap and giving her one last pat. “I’m heading out. Thanks for the session, Lucio.”
He chuckled, standing as well. “That’s what brothers are for, Suarez. Anytime.”
I gave him a firm handshake, the tension in my chest completely gone. “Appreciate it, man.”
“Anytime. Tell your love I said hello, and that she’s a saint for putting up with you.”
I laughed again as I made my way to the door. “I’ll let her know. Try not to scare Marina with all this wisdom when you get to Italy.”
Lucio waved me off with a grin. “She’ll just tell me I’m full of it, like always.”
I left Lucio’s house feeling lighter, his words still echoing in my mind. The weight that had been pressing on me seemed to lift as I stepped out into the fresh air. Instead of going straight home, I decided to stop by my office to catch up on work. The quiet atmosphere helped me focus as I cleared emails, reviewed contracts, polished proposals, and tied up loose ends.
When I finally wrapped up, I grabbed some Chinese takeout for dinner before driving to pick her up from the salon.