“Here, let me help.” Micah relieved her of some of the bags. “And let me inform you what is wrong with your outfit. No one wears sequins to the market, much less Marc Jacobs stilettos.”
“I can. I have always said it is better to be overdressed than underdressed.” Sabina gave Micah’s look a once-over. “Besides, since when did the pajama queen start handing out fashion advice? Have you been sleeping all day again?”
“This isn’t about me. Don’t try to change the subject. Yes, you do always say that. But if you show up wearing a ball gown next week while trying to buy fresh fish, everyone will make fun of you.”
“No, they won’t. Everyone will just start wearing gowns the following week. I am a trendsetter.”
Micah rolled her eyes. A trendsetter, my butt.
“And Mike, the fact that you knew these were Marc Jacobs did not escape my notice. It warms my heart.”
Oh, yay! Just what she always hoped she would be capable of doing—spotting and naming designers at the drop of a hat.
“How did we become friends again?”
* * *
Josh needed to see her. There was this nagging emotion that had been plaguing him. He’d thought it would all go back to normal after a good night’s sleep. That soon this would all be water under the bridge.
She never texted him back. He hadn’t heard from her at all. Out of desperation, he texted Sabina, a rarity in and of itself, to check in on Micah. According to Sabina, she had slept the day away and appeared to have been crying. It was getting worse, not better. But the question was, did he step in to help, or did he give her space?
Maybe space was needed. She needed to work through these unresolved issues with Drew and he needed to get himself under control. Space was a good thing. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
Regardless, they needed to talk, clear the air. Then space could be possible, and at least his mind would be at ease. But as he stood at her doorstep, he realized he probably should have rehearsed what to say beforehand. He’d just have to see how it went.
He lifted his hand and placed three quick knocks on the hardwood door. A few moments later, the knob turned and door opened. Micah stood in front of him, appearing very much like the best friend he knew and loved in her oversize T-shirt and what she called comfy pants, her glasses in place and hair wadded up on top of her head. Her eyes were a little puffy and red, evidence of the tears Sabina had told him about.
She didn’t say anything, just stood in the doorway, looking at him.
“I need to ask you something.” The look she gave him told him it was okay to proceed. “How much do you think a polar bear weighs?”
She gave him a puzzled but knowing look. She knew him too well to know it wasn’t a serious question plaguing his mind. “I don’t know. How much?”
“Enough to break the ice.” It got the response he wanted. Well, almost. It was a smile, even if forced. She moved aside to let him enter.
“I can’t talk right now, Josh.”
“You know, I used to have a pet porcupine.”
“What? What in the world does that have to do with me not wanting to talk?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought we were beginning this conversation with each of us saying things that don’t matter.”
Her smile stretched from ear to ear. It didn’t matter what was going on between them. She could be mad at him and ready to spit fire his way, but he would saunter in and say something charming. What could he say? He had a way about him. It worked every time.
“Okay. I’ll stop.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to check in on you.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.” She extended both of her arms out in an effort to show she was in fact just fine.
“Are you sure about that?”
She didn’t answer. Just sat down on the couch and stared at her hands.
“Micah, I hate seeing you hurt like this.”
“I’m fine. Really. We don’t need to talk about it.”
“I knew you would say that.” That was exactly what he expected from her. “But I’m kind of tired of waiting for the right time to talk to you.”
She looked up with him, her eyes stretched wide. “I don’t want to talk about it!”
“When will be the right time?” Recently his patience had been wearing thin, making him unsure of how to proceed, how to act around her, talk to her. It was all so exasperating. He had to remind himself to continue to be patient with her. She was in a delicate state of mind.
“I don’t know. Maybe never.”
She was frustrated and he knew it by the tone of her voice, the rigidity in her body language, but he wasn’t about to give up on it so easily.
“Well, that doesn’t work for me.” Okay, handling delicate situations wasn’t something that came easily for him. “You have to get over him.”
Her gaze snapped back up at him as if he had taken her by surprise. Did she think he was talking about something else? Was she thinking about the kiss instead?
Her hesitation was clear. He could sense she was searching for a response. He had definitely caught her off guard. Moments passed before she finally spoke.
“You...you say that like it’s an easy thing. You don’t know what it’s like.”
“You know you weren’t the only one to go through this, right, Micah?”
He could see the anger stirring in her eyes, her feisty personality wanting to tell him off.
“No, but my relationship with him was different. My grief is different than yours. I can’t tell you how to handle it any more than you can tell me how to handle mine.”
“I’m not telling you how to grieve. I have kept silent. I have let you handle it your way. I’ve been there as a shoulder to cry on more times than I can count. I knew you needed time. But it has been ten years. You can’t keep this up. What you are experiencing now is way past the point of being unhealthy.”
“Unhealthy?”
“Yeah. You’ve taken grieving to a whole new level, and you were only with the guy for two years. Don’t you think you’ve cried enough tears over him?”
Immediately, he regretted it. He had seen the pain in her eyes just before she turned her face from him. He knew better.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He stood in front of her and reached for her hand, pulling her up toward him. “Come here.”
She came freely, tucking her head under his chin, resting her head on his chest. He knew the moment he pulled her closer that it was a mistake. Her warm body flush against his was wrong on so many levels. He pushed past it. She needed a friend instead of the jerk he had been recently.
She didn’t say a word. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“Micah, if you keep going the way you’ve been, I fear you’ll be just as dead on the inside as Drew’s body in the grave.”
Still no response.
She felt right in his arms. Like home. He couldn’t lose her. He wanted to keep her safe, right where she was, close to his heart. Keep her safe from the pain of the world and the pain of her past. But he knew he needed to let go and let her do what she needed to do. He needed to support her and encourage her to move on, even if it meant she moved on from him, too. Because when you loved someone, you put their happiness above your own.
“I’m