Page 91 of Between Hello and Goodbye

“Getting there,” I said, then kissed her.

“You arrived a long time ago,” she said and smiled tremulously, her eyes shining. “I’m a lucky gal.”

Then she turned away to conceal her emotions and made a joke, and I just smiled and watched her, thinking all the while about the crazy curveballs life threw at us. And that maybe the key to survival wasn’t trying to avoid them—impossible—but how we reacted to them. I could’ve ruined Faith’s night, ruined her anticipation of me meeting the guy who was so important to her, but what for?

Wrecking Faith’s happiness was pretty fucking low on my list of things I wanted to do, and instead of holding onto resentment or anger toward Silas, I did something that would make Momi proud and let it go.

We showered, and I put on dark pants and a lightweight jacket over a white button-down. Faith changed into a white dress with large, colorful flowers all over it, belted at her slender waist. She’d put on make-up, perfume, a few pieces of jewelry, and high heels. My heart stuttered to see her, so beautiful and so comfortable. Cosmopolitan, I guessed was the word.

Because she looks like she stepped out of a magazine.

“You don’t like?” she asked, twirling her dress.

“I like a lot,” I said. “You’re stunning.”

She kissed her finger and put it between my brows. “Let’s go.”

We stepped out to the street and instead of calling an Uber, Faith raised an elegant arm and a cab stopped immediately. Another guy standing nearby, not seeing me, rushed to open the door for her.

She smiled prettily at him and climbed in.

“I got it from here,” I told the guy with a glare. He backed off with a muttered apology.

“This restaurant is one of my favorites,” Faith said as the car took us into a section of the city that bustled with cafés, restaurants, and shops. Her hand gripped mine suddenly. “Are you okay being here? I remember what you said about your time on Wall Street and maybe… Shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not like I have PTSD from being in a city. It’s more like…”

It’s more like I don’t belong here anymore. But she does.

“I’m fine, I swear.” I leaned in to kiss her. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you.”

“I see what you did there.” She smiled slyly, but her cheeks colored again, and then she kissed me with a different kind of intention. Just because she wanted to.

We are so fucked.

We stepped inside the restaurant that was bright and busy with a glass wall behind the bar that made the bottles glitter. People in business attire sat talking with briefcases by their sides instead of beach bags. It all seemed loud and chaotic, but Faith was in her element. She chatted with the maître d’ as if they’d known each other forever, and then we were guided to the bar to wait for our table.

We hadn’t been there for longer than a minute when a gasp cut through the bar chatter.

“Faith?”

A woman with dark hair and dressed in designer clothing from bag to shoes approached, her eyes fixed on me. “I thought that was you.”

“Viv!” Faith said, looking suddenly nervous. The women air-kissed each other’s cheeks. “Asher Mackey, this is my friend, Vivienne Simone.”

Clearly, this was the friend whom Faith didn’t tell about Hawaii. Also clearly, Faith hadn’t told her about me either. A knowing smile I didn’t like spread over Vivienne’s red lips.

“A pleasure. Faith has been keeping you a secret, apparently.”

Faith laughed lightly. “What are you doing here, Viv?”

“Oh, I’m meeting Jill and Bianca for lunch,” Viv said, still sizing me up. “But who cares, I’m dying of curiosity. Tell me, how ever did you two meet?”

“It’s the craziest story,” Faith said. “I twisted my ankle on a trail and Asher was one of the firemen who came to my rescue.”