Chapter 57
Lana
It’s the next day in the evening, and everyone has arrived at their destinations. M is talking to Adam on his phone, from our bed.
“We’ll talk later.” M hangs up and hugs me. We have been in bed all day, me waiting on him like a dutiful girlfriend. I needed to spoil him after all he has done.
My plan to live life how I want to is finally being set in motion. Especially after he has been honest with me.
“They had some traffic along the way, so they arrived just now.”
“That’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Little hummingbird, we need to get out of bed at some point.” I kiss him on the lips to shut him up. He returns my kiss, and we are in this little bubble that I don’t want to end. But at some point, I need to face reality.
“Not yet, I’m still super tired. I could, however, use a drink. What do you think?” I ask him as I stand up and go to his liquor table near the window.
“Absolutely. What are you pouring us?” he asks me, and I hear him standing up. I pour two glasses from the bottle of expensive whiskey I bought him three weeks ago. I turn around, and he is looking fucking delicious.
He is standing before me in gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
I hand him the glass, and he drinks a couple of sips from it.
“I want to raise a toast.” I hold up my glass, and he follows suit. “To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings.” We clink glasses, and I see him downing the entire glass of golden brown liquid. And immediately, I notice the pause in his movements—my chest flutters—not with triumph, but with worry.
“Are you okay?” I ask, tilting my head slightly. “You look a little… off.”
He waves his hand at me while blinking a few times, like he is trying to focus through a haze. “I… feel dizzy,” he murmurs. I step closer, letting a shadow of concern fall across my features.
“Sit down for a moment,” I say softly, reaching out to steady him. My heart is racing—not from guilt, not from excitement—but from wanting to make sure he is safe. Really, that’s all that matters. I need M safe.
“Maybe it’s that we were confined in this place all day long, or had too much coffee earlier?” I suggest lightly.
“I don’t know. Lana, I don’t feel good.” M slurs his words, and he falls onto the floor. I’m not feeling good myself.