Page 161 of Micah
Wonderfully, gloriously normal.
Something I wasn't sure I'd ever feel again after last night.
The laughter fades naturally.
Neither woman pushes.
Neither asks about what happened.
About those men.
Or Patrick.
Or what happened after Micah took me away.
Instead, Esme reaches across the island and squeezes my hand.
“Listen,” she says gently, all traces of teasing gone. “You don't have to talk about last night. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever, if you don't want to.”
Bit nods in agreement.
“But if you do...”
She shrugs.
“We're here.”
“If you need help with the bar...”
“I'll come paint,” Esme offers.
“I make a mean breakfast sandwich,” Bit adds.
“I can clean and organize.”
“And I can help deal with insurance paperwork if that's what you need.”
“We'll even sit there with you and ugly cry if that's on the agenda.”
I blink hard as unexpected tears sting my eyes.
“But you two barely know me.”
Bit smiles.
“Maybe.”
“But you're one of us now.”
Esme nods.
“And at the Jersey Iron Ranch no one gets left to carry the hard stuff alone.”
For the first time in a very long time...
I believe them.
They both smile.
