The Ever After of Ella and Micha (The Secret 4)

“Please don’t,” Ethan pleads grumpily as he stretches his free arm above his head. “I’ve heard enough from you two to last me a lifetime.”

“Okay, this is getting really awkward,” Lila mumbles with her eyes still shut. “Can we all just pretend that we haven’t heard each other have sex… or phone sex?”

And that’s my cue to get out of the car since she’s referring to the time Micha and I had phone sex while I was still sharing an apartment with Lila while Micha was on the road. As I step out into the snow, Micha laughs and Ethan cracks a joke underneath his breath. Ignoring them, I slam the door and wind around to the back of the car, leaving my tracks in the snow.

Thankfully, I thought ahead and wore my lace-up boots and a pair of jeans, otherwise I’d be freezing. I don’t have a jacket on, though, and my hair’s pulled up in a ponytail so my neck’s exposed to the icy air. I wrap my arms around myself and wait for Micha to come open the trunk as I stare at my house next door.

I can tell my dad’s been out and about because of the fresh tire tracks going up and down the driveway and the fact that his Firebird is parked near the back steps, the windows defrosted. Beside the car is the tree that Micha used to climb up almost every night to sleep with me. I used to hate the tree because I climbed up it the night my mom died, but now, looking at it, I can’t help but smile because it was the thing that brought Micha to me many times.

“Baby, where’s your jacket?” Micha asks as he struts around to the back of the car, slipping off his own jacket.

“I think it’s in my suitcase.” I force my attention away from my house and onto him as he hands me his jacket and I distractedly slip it on. He’s so God damn gorgeous it’s distracting. I wish I could just draw him all the time. He’d probably let me if I asked, telling me he belongs to me and I can do whatever I want with him.

I absentmindedly rub my thumb across the ring on my finger as I feel the reality of the thought. That we belong together. Him and me. Forever.

He looks down at my ring and then takes my hand and reaches out to sketch his finger around the diamond band twisted in knots that encase a black stone. “I’m still surprised how well you’re handling this.”

“What? Being engaged?” I shiver from the cold, or maybe it’s from his touch.

A pucker forms at his brow as he glances down at the ring on my finger. “Over the fact that we’re going to get married…” He looks over at my house. “Here, with everyone.”

My muscles tense, but I joke to lighten the tension building inside me. “Give me a few days and we’ll see if you still think I’m handling it well. You might not even want to marry me anymore.”

“You know as well as I do that we’re going to get married.” His eyes darken with desire as his voice deepens. “Just like we both know that I’m going to f**k you when we take a shower in just a few minutes.”

His voice sends tingles all over my body, a flurry of hot sparks. “I swear to God, sometimes you are the horniest person in the world.”

“Nah, I’m just a guy who’s completely attracted to his beautiful fiancée.” He leans in to give me a kiss on the lips, before popping the trunk.

I grab my bag and slide the handle over my shoulder. “You’re always over complimenting me. You know that?”

He swings the duffel bag over his shoulder and looks like he’s resisting an eye roll. “Don’t worry, I’ll stop when your head gets too big, but I doubt that’ll ever happen.” He picks up a large bag and chucks it over the roof of the car to Ethan, who catches it against his stomach with a grunt.

“Jesus, a little warning would be nice,” Ethan says as he slides the handle of the bag over his arm.

Micha grabs Lila’s suitcase and extends the handle, lowering the bag down to the snowy driveway. “You guys are staying here, right?” Micha calls out to Ethan, slamming the trunk shut.

Ethan shrugs, looking at Lila, who shrugs too. “I was planning on it.” He drapes his arm around Lila’s shoulder and she cuddles against his chest as they hike through the snow for the back door, leaving Micha and me to finish unloading the trunk by ourselves. “You know I like your place more than my own.”

“Only because my mom lets us do whatever the hell we want,” Micha points out.

“True,” Ethan calls out.

We follow them to the side door of the house that’s right in front of the garage where Micha used to work on his car all the time and I would hang out with him because it was the only place I felt at home.

“God, Lila, this thing is heavy,” Micha remarks as he drags Lila’s suitcase in the snow behind him. “What the hell did you pack?”

“Normal stuff,” Lila says, looking offended.

Ethan opens the back door and steps into the kitchen. “She overpacks.”

“Hey,” Lila protests, bumping her elbow into Ethan’s side as she steps into the house. “I’m a lot better than I used to be.”

“True,” Ethan agrees, following her in and letting the screen door bang shut.

“Is your mom home?” I ask as Micha lifts the suitcase up the steps.

He shrugs, opening the screen door. “Maybe.” He pushes the suitcase into the kitchen while holding the door open with his elbow. “She might have had to work the morning shift, though, or she might be out with Thomas.”

I hitch my finger through the handle of the bag. “But you told her, right? That we were coming?” I step inside the kitchen and into the warm air, stomping my boots on the mat just in front of the threshold. “And why we were coming?” I sound so nervous. Damn it. I need to chill out.

Micha shakes his head as he shuts the door. “I thought we could do it together.”

My eyes skim the small kitchen I ate many meals in while I was growing up. If I hadn’t, I probably would have starved. “Sounds good, I guess.”

He pauses near the kitchen table. “Unless you’re not okay with that.”

“No, I’m okay with that,” I tell him, attempting to push through my nerves. I can do this. It’s not that scary. You’ve been living together for six months. Hell, you pretty much lived with him since you were four. “We should do it together.”

He nods, but his aqua eyes are still fixed on me, like he’s trying to read my soul. I kind of wish he could so he would tell me what it says, because sometimes I’m not so sure.

After a few intense moments of staring at me, he gives me a smile and then grabs hold of my hand. He steers me around the narrow counter area and toward the hallway that leads to his bedroom. Lila and Ethan head to the other end of the house where there’s a small guest bedroom Ethan used to crash in all the time while we were growing up.

Micha kicks his bedroom door open and I can’t help but smile as vivid memories rush back to me: the room where we grew up, where we spent many nights together, where he proposed to me. They’re beautiful memories and they remind me of why I’m going to marry him. I hold my breath for a moment as the thought slams straight into my chest again, like it did right before I was supposed to go to the wedding. My heart rate picks up as I glance at the window, thinking how easy it would be for me to run. I’ve done it once and I could do it again, but deep down in the bottom of my heart, buried below my anxiety, I know I don’t want to. I suck a slow breath through my nose and exhale out my mouth. Relax. I need to stop panicking.

His bed isn’t made and has probably been that way since the last time we were here a year ago. Drumsticks and a guitar are on the floor in front of the open closet and hanging on the wall are his favorite band posters, along with some of my drawings. Old clothes are piled on a chair near the window that looks out to the side yard of my house and to the leafless tree that extends to my bedroom window. His room still smells like him, too, as if the scent of his cologne is embedded in the carpet fibers. I’ve always loved the smell, a simple scent bringing me instant comfort even in the darkest times. I wonder if I just stand here and breathe it in over and over again if it can help me forget what’s in the bag that’s secured over my shoulder.

Micha chucks his bag on the unmade bed and turns to me, rubbing his hands together. “Ready for our shower?” he asks with a devilish grin.

I drop my bag onto the floor. “Yeah, just give me a second to get my clothes out. They’re all buried beneath the wedding dress.”

He crosses his arms and gives me an apprehensive look. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting really distracted and now you’re acting like you don’t want to be around me.”

I plaster on the most generic smile. Deep down I know he probably can read right through my bullshit. “I’m perfectly fine.” I place my hands on his shoulders and kiss his scruffy cheek. “But if you really want to know, I have some naughty little nighties in my bag that I don’t want you to see, otherwise you’ll make me try them on for you and they’re for after we get married.”

He cocks his head to the side, assessing me as he unzips his jacket. “Since when do you wear nighties?” He shucks off the jacket, balls it up, and tosses it on the dresser.

“Since Lila made me go into Victoria’s Secret and buy them.” Which isn’t entirely a lie. That actually did happen, but I do feel like a jerk for not coming straight out and telling him about the journal and drawings.

“You know, I’m really starting to like Lila. She’s such a good influence on you,” he says cleverly and then kisses me deeply, slipping his tongue into my mouth before pulling away. “If you’re not in the shower in five minutes, I’m coming back here nak*d to get you.”

“Deal,” I tell him and he heads out the door with a clean red T-shirt and jeans in his hand. As soon as the door shuts, I exhale loudly as I move my bag onto the bed. My fingers shake as I unzip it, and then I dig past the dress to the bottom of the bag and remove the box addressed to me, the return address from a Gary Flemmerton in Montana, but that’s not who it’s from, at least not according to the note inside the box, which was written by mother’s mom—my grandma. And it makes no sense, because I’ve never talked to her before, yet she took it upon herself to write me a note and send me some stuff of my mother’s. It’s weird, yet at the same time it’s got me thinking things I don’t want to think, like maybe I could meet her, but then again, do I really want to let more people in my life?

The note’s pretty simple and when I take it out of the box and read it again, I have the same reaction: confusion.

Ella, I know you don’t know me and I’m so sorry about that. There were things that you probably don’t understand, or maybe you do. Maybe Maralynn told you about me. Maybe she didn’t. But regardless, I was going through the attic, cleaning it out, and found some of her old stuff. I thought that you’d like to have it. I was going to keep it myself, but it’s just too painful. If you don’t want it, you don’t have to keep it. I just thought you might like it.