Chapter Twenty-Four
Michaela
I lifted my head from where I’d been leaning on Lincoln’s shoulder. “Oops. I got your shirt wet.”
He shrugged. “It’s only water. I’m more concerned about you.”
“Why?”
“Because as much as you can make me want to strangle you occasionally, I like you, too. And I hate to see any pretty girl with a reason to cry.” He brushed two more tears away that escaped as I blinked. “Mom said you were upstairs. The door was open and I heard you crying. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I sniffled. “I just…hadn’t cried, yet…a-and coming in here, it made it real. He’s not going to walk in and offer to go get fish and chips, or call and say ‘Hey, love. How’s your week been?’ anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you know him well?”
“Well enough to like him. Holidays here were awesome. I love
