Chapter Thirty-six
Abigail-Ann
“The strongest love is the love that can demonstrate its fragility.”
~ Paulo Coelho
T he past ten weeks have been... Well, let’s get to the rundown. Work, home and therapy remained the usual routine, and I was happy with it. I graduated, thankfully. Top of my program with a 3.9 GPA. That moment had been surreal, made even better because my boyfriend, my mother, and my sister were in the audience. Dad couldn’t make it—he was performing open-heart surgery on a patient, but I knew he was proud.
Before that joy came sorrow. Aunty Leann’s sudden passing hit hard, leaving a deep void. During that difficult time, I was there for Azzy—late-night calls, getting her new books, constant company, and little notes to remind her she was loved and never alone. Then, as if fate decided it was time for brighter days, Dillon proposed, and not long after, they shared the wonderful news that she was pregnant with twins. Seeing her face light up as she shared her happiness was everything.
As for me, I had finished my apprenticeship applications, though I hadn’t had much time to think about them. Mikkel had us everywhere, celebrating my graduation and his ongoing expansions. Elephants in Thailand, the pyramids in Giza, snorkeling in Tobago Cays, The Pitons in Saint Lucia, hiking the Blue Mountains in Jamaica, and visiting Hoyo Azul in the Dominican Republic. We’d had sex on more surfaces than I could count, and I wasn’t even sorry about it.
The Dominican Republic had been a welcome escape from the city and the highlight of our trip. Mikkel flew us out on his jet, casually remarking, “The best place to experience a farmers’ market is in the Caribbean.” And, of course, he was right.
Sunny’s Green Haven was breathtaking. Vibrant flowers, sweet fruits, and fresh herbs perfumed the air. Stalls overflowed with homemade jams, handcrafted jewelry, warm baked goods, and irresistible local cheeses. I checked off both explore a farmers’ market and visit somewhere new from my bucket list, and under the golden Caribbean sun, it was unforgettable.
We briefly met Mikkel’s cousins, but their backhanded comments rubbed me the wrong way. I almost snapped, but Mikkel suggested we leave.
And Mikkel... oh, Mikkel. He had been— and still is —the best person in my life. The love of my life. He cared about me in ways that constantly left me speechless. He talked me through everything, no matter how small or big it had felt to me. Flowers? Always. Chocolate cake and Chipotle whenever I wanted? Of course. Nothing ever stopped him from making sure I had my heart’s desires.
Beyond that, he was actively working on himself, making a real effort to manage his anger. I recognized the tells—the tight set of his jaw, the slight twitch of his fingers—but he handled them differently now. He squeezed his stress ball, wrote (which was surprisingly wholesome to see), confided in me instead of bottling things up, and stepped away when work became overwhelming. It wasn’t easy, but he was trying. And that? Meant everything .
He made it easy for me to be a woman. I never had to pick up the pieces if I couldn’t because he was always there with his arms open. I didn’t have to prove myself or mask my strength with softness. I never had to beg to be loved wholly, and I never noticed who didn’t clap because his applause always drowned out everyone else’s.
When he looked at me, it was as if he saw every part of me without hesitation. He never once asked me to be anything other than who I was, which made me feel more like a woman than anything else ever had.
One night, when my anxiety had me feeling so weak I couldn’t stand without thinking I might fall, he held me close and sang every song from Lana’s Born to Die album. The circumstances were far from perfect—he’d just returned from his Singapore work trip, and I felt guilty for dragging him into my chaos. But his voice, filled with heart and love, made everything feel like it was exactly what I needed.
Adjusting to his prominence came with its challenges. I never imagined I’d walk through Times Square and see Mikkel’s face towering above, the headline bold: Elite Rides Expands—Meet the Man Behind the Multi-Billion Dollar Empire.
I let it sink in—the weight of his success, the eyes drawn to him. Pride swelled in my chest, and that night, we celebrated in every way possible.
My mom, however, found it hilarious, joking, “You’re dating the Dominican Denzel Washington!”
She adored Mikkel. Every FaceTime felt like a chat between old friends—she’d ask about him, how he was doing, and when he’d visit. Honestly, I think she loved him more than me, and I was perfectly fine with that. Seeing her welcome him so warmly made me happy.
As for his parents, I had a few nerve-wracking FaceTimes with them. We hadn’t met in person yet, but their happiness for him put me at ease. His mom even sent me the sweetest daily Spanish prayers, which I started saving.
Oh, and speaking of Spanish, I’d been using Duolingo more often. At this point, I was basically fluent or at least that’s what the green bird kept telling me. Sometimes I’d thought it was just trying to get me to level up faster to escape my endless attempts at pronunciation. But hey, if it didn’t, I’d just blame it on the bird, right?
It had been a whirlwind—a chaotic, messy, beautiful whirlwind. And I wouldn’t change a thing.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the salon, feeling like a brand-new woman. After ten long hours, my 30-inch boho faux locs were finally done, and I couldn’t be happier with how they turned out. Mikkel had stayed with me for the first five hours before leaving for a meeting, but as expected, his pristine white Range Rover was parked at the curb, gleaming under the streetlights. Technically, it was mine—a graduation gift from him—but I rarely drove it. Being his passenger princess was just too tempting.
I slid into the car, barely settling before he pulled me close for a kiss—warm, full of love, making everything else fade away.
When he pulled back, he looked at me in awe, his eyes wide. “You look absolutely breathtaking,” he gushed, his voice full of admiration. “I mean, seriously, this is… wow. You’ve always been beautiful, but this?” He shook his head, his smile growing. “ Me estás matando , Red. 84 ”
“You always know just what to say,” I said in response, and he just kissed me.
Before I could even say I was hungry, he handed me a Chipotle bowl with chips and queso—like he’d read my mind. Then, to my surprise, he pulled out a box of cookies in different flavors for us to try. We sat in the car, tasting and laughing at our favorites, until we hit a flavor so bad that neither of us could stomach it.
“Some things we can definitely live without,” he grimaced.
I playfully slapped his hand. “Mikkel.”
“Am I wrong?”
“Nope.”
“I’ve had better things in my mouth,” he added, his tone teasing.
“Interesting. Like what?” I challenged, arching an eyebrow.
“Your pussy,” he said without hesitation.
I couldn’t believe he just said that. “Mikkel Suarez.”
He chuckled softly. “It’s true.”
I tried to keep my composure, but the way he looked at me made it impossible not to blush. “You’re dirty.”
“A luxury reserved just for you, mi reina. 85 ”
I caught Mikkel’s gaze as he looked at me, his eyes softer than usual, filled with a tenderness that made my heart flutter.
“You’ve got that look,” I said, teasing but with a hint of curiosity.
He stared, drinking me in, then slowly reached over, two fingers guiding my face closer.
“I’m just admiring how your beautiful soul shines through you, making you glow with happiness, baby.”
The words lingered, sinking in as he kissed me—soft and fleeting. I sat there, thoughts swirling. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.
He wasn’t finished, though. His voice was a little hushed as he spoke again.
“Seeing you like this is a reward for living, a reason for breathing. It’s inexplicable, but it’s everything. And it’s something I’d die for, because it just makes the world make sense.”
I blinked, overwhelmed by him. “I’m so glad I’m here with you.”
He leaned in and kissed me softly. “ Eres mi todo. 86 Always will be.”
His phone then buzzed on the dashboard, vibrating incessantly, and he groaned as he reached for it, glancing at the screen.
“It’s my Mamá, 87 ” he said, his expression softening as he swiped to answer the FaceTime.
“Mi hijo, ?cómo estás? 88 ” Her voice was warm and her smile evident even through the screen.
“I’m good, Mamá. How are you and Papa?”
“We’re fine, busy as usual. And Abigail? How is she?”
Mikkel turned the phone toward me, his hand resting on my thigh. “She’s right here.”
“Hi, Mrs. Suarez.” I waved awkwardly, smiling as her face lit up.
“Abigail, it’s so nice to see you! Estás radiante , 89 ” she said warmly.
I laughed softly. “Thank you. It’s nice to see you, too.”
She looked back at Mikkel. “We’re coming to New York at the end of month.”
Oh.
He blinked, caught off guard. “Actually?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Once we book the flight, I’ll send you and Emmy the details.”
“Don’t book a flight, I’ll have the jet ready instead,” he promised, running a hand through his hair.
“Lovely. We’ll see you both soon. Nos vemos pronto .” 90
“Goodnight,” I managed, my smile polite as the call ended.
As soon as the screen went dark, the realization of her announcement settled over me.
They’re coming at the end of this month.
“Are you okay?” His voice was gentle as he rubbed my thigh.
“Meeting your parents in person for the first time.” I exhaled, twisting my fingers nervously. “It’s a big deal.”
He shifted closer, his warmth steadying me. “You’ve talked to them before and they already love you.”
“It’s different now,” I admitted. “What if I s—”
He cut me off, his hand tilting my chin, so I could look into his eyes. “They’re going to love you, Abigail,” he assured me. “And if they don’t, you’re mine, not theirs.”
A small laugh escaped me despite my nerves. “That’s not how it works, Mikkel.”
“It is for me.” His smile was so confident, so sure, I felt a little steadier. “I’m always going to be sure of you, Red. Siempre .” 91
I nodded, leaning into him. “Okay.”