I slip my hand into Azíl"s and give it a squeeze as we walk into the restaurant.
"I love you, you know that?" I ask.
He chuckles. "Is this about our conversation?"
"A little. And a little about my parents," I admit.
"I know it," he promises. "And I love you too, Willow."
Hearing the words does stop the intensity of the nerves flitting around my stomach.
We approach the podium at the front of the restaurant and greet the server waiting there.
"I"ve got a reservation for Reid," I say.
The server nods. "Right this way, please, the rest of your party is here already." He gestures for us to follow him.
I"m not sure whether to be relieved that my parents are already here, I suppose it cuts down on the waiting.
We approach a table for four, and my parents both get to their feet the mome
