Page 99 of Frankie and the Fed

“No.” Ethan’s father surprises me. All of this, and he still isn’t ready to forgive?

“We want you to come with him.” He exchanges a look with Laura, and she nods.

“We should apologize,” he says. “We were also unfair to you. We blamed you for things you had no control over. You’re good for him. I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with you.”

Tears come to my eyes.

“Maybe we can turn a new page,” Gabriel says.

His mother adds, “When you were away from him, he faded away. Even in the brief times I saw him, it wasn’t the Ethan I knew. It was as if the joy of life had disappeared from him. At first, I blamed the terrible experience he went through, the injury, and the police investigation. But time passed, and he didn’t get any better. He only came back to life when he reunited with you. Even the lawsuit didn’t concern him once you came back. I was blind not to have seen it sooner,” Laura says, standing and approaching me.

She reaches out to me, and I decide to go for it and hug her. I can feel the automatic reluctance, but then she softens and gives in to the embrace, and we break away.

I don’t think anyone has hugged her in a very long time.

A tear runs down her cheek.

“I hope we can be on good terms,” I say. “But even if not, it’s okay. I won’t stand in the way. But if you hurt him again, I will protect him. I will always protect him.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” Gabriel tells me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I understand what he sees in you. You are a fighter.”

We say goodbye, and tears of joy fill my eyes. I can’t believe what just happened. I got approval from Ethan’s parents.

I got a fucking hug from the ice queen. Well, I took one anyway. I get in the car and take the phone out of my handbag.

Shit.

Sixteen missed calls from Ethan.

I call him immediately. “Hey.”

“Fuck, Ayala.” His voice trembles.

“Sorry, the phone was in my handbag. I didn’t notice. Are you mad?”

“No. I’m dying of worry. You left without saying where you were going, and it’s been several hours. Where did you go?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m on my way back.”

“Where are you?” His tone is low.

I squirm. “Uh...”

“We said no more secrets,” he scolds. “It works for both sides.”

He’s right. And it’s not that I have anything to hide, but not sure how he’ll take it, I prefer he didn’t know that I messed with his affairs.

“Tell me where you are now,” he demands in a cold tone, and for a moment, I feel like hanging up on him and running away. But he sounds upset. Really upset, so I resist the urge and answer him.

“At your parents’ house.” I close my eyes.

“Come home.”

I don’t know what to expect as I walk in. What will he say? What will he do? Is he angry at me?

I find him sitting on the sofa, his head between his hands. He doesn’t look up, and the worry nibbles at me. When he finally looks up, there’s pain in his eyes. He reaches out and pulls me into his arms.

“Please don’t do that again. Don’t disappear like that. You know what goes through my mind.”