Page 101 of Punishing His Runaway Bride
He jumped up immediately and charged, hitting Ella like a cannonball, making her stagger back half a step. She yelped but caught him firmly, still complaining. "You tackle people like a missile."
I wheeled the suitcase into the bedroom and sat on the bed. I listened to the sounds from the living room, closed my eyes, took a deep breath.
New York's air was different from France. Couldn't say exactly how. Just different. Like some smell I thought I'd forgotten, dredged back up, dragging along things I didn't intend for it to drag.
I opened my eyes. Stood up. Went to the living room to help Leo with his blocks.
That evening after Leo's bath, he clutched his stuffed rabbit and insisted Ella tell him a bedtime story. Ella told him one about a talking crocodile in a completely unsuitable, overly dramatic tone that kept Leo giggling and unable to sleep. I had to go in, turn off the lights, and sit by his bed in the dark, humming for nearly ten minutes before he finally drifted off.
Ella didn't rush to leave. She waited in the living room. When I came out, she'd already opened the balcony door. Two glasses of red wine sat on the small table. She leaned against the railing, half her body propped against the glass, gazing at the night view outside.
Manhattan's night view from this height was a solid mass of lights. Between the gaps in the high-rises, you could still see small patches ofdark sky. The night breeze wasn't cold, carried a hint of early autumn, blew in just right.
I sat down and took a sip of wine. Good wine. A bit astringent going down, clean finish.
"How long are you planning to stay?" Ella propped her feet on the railing base, asking casually.
"Till Sophie's wedding's over, then we're gone."
"Wedding's in three weeks."
"I know."
Ella hummed but didn't push further. We sat like that, listening to the faint sounds of cars and people from the street below. Didn't speak. Silence in each other's presence had always been comfortable. That hadn't changed in five years.
Then she spoke.
"What about him? What are you gonna do?"
I knew who she meant. Over these five years, that name appeared less and less between us, but it never truly disappeared.
"Nothing," I said. "There's nothing that needs doing."
"So you're over him."
Not a question.
I took a sip of wine. "Yes."
Ella glanced at me. That look held everything, but she didn't call me out. Changed direction. "So when are you getting into the next one?"
Wine almost sprayed out of my mouth.
I pulled the glass away from my lips, looking at her. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm saying," Ella's expression utterly righteous, "how long has it been since you had a man, Olivia?"
"Ella—"
"I've got resources. Lawyers, doctors, architects. All high quality. Most importantly, clean backgrounds. No mafia, no violence."
I groaned. "No, Ella, don't start. Before that, I'd rather find work. I don't want to spend these weeks mooching off you."
Ella shrugged, raising her glass again. "Fine, whatever. Call mewhen you're ready. I'll keep an eye out for work. Don't worry. Even if you do nothing, I can support you and Leo."
"Knew you were the most reliable, my good friend."
I shot her an affirming look, raised my glass and drained it, then sank back into the chair and looked up at that patch of dark sky.
