Almost Friends (Chapter Twenty)

"I just can't wrap my mind around this. You couldn't tell me? Me, of all people!"

It seems the more she explained herself, the more Linda wanted to analyze it. "Linda, it was more about not having you worry."

"You know what I worry about?" Linda began with an earth-mother air. "About you, not grasping life's potential? I've always said you should relax more. Why would you be hesitant to talk to me about living your life? I've constantly been nagging you to to experience your life, not dwell on the past. I have been in therapy two years now. I know what I'm talking about."

Lois couldn't remember when Linda ever, let alone always, nagged her about living it up. "I know," she decided to concede. Her agreement seemed to keep Linda flying straighter. "I just don't know what's wrong with me. It's not about you. I guess I was just..." She wanted to be at least partially truthful, here. She cared too much about Linda to lie outright. "I was having trouble dealing with all the new information."

"But I thought you stopped getting new information, with the lessons being stopped and..."

"I meant the new information about..." Oh, hell, she'd just say it. "About Clark and I. Okay?"

Linda, thankfully, kept her eyes ahead of her as they landed on Lois' roof. "Oh. I guess I did drop a real bomb on you."

"Actually, Clark did," Lois finally said, after waiting for the blades to slow.

Linda slapped the console. "I knew it. I just knew this living life crap wasn't some out of the blue..."

"Careful. I might think that stuff you always said was insincere."

"Would you be serious? What did he do now?"

"He didn't do anything. At least not in the present," she added, undoing her seatbelt.

Linda was suddenly right behind her as she reached for her suitcase. "But you said he dropped a bomb on you."

"He did. He told me about our past."

Linda pulled out a box. "But I already told you all that."

Lois supposed she was referring to her mysterious rambling monologue. "He filled in some details you didn't." She grabbed two grocery bags, once again marveling that Diana had got all her stuff into one case.

"Well, you wouldn't let me. Not that I did want to get into the details." Linda was hot on her heels as she opened the roof access door.

"I wish I hadn't." She moved into the stairwell, her bag tripping down each step behind her. "I'm fine, Linda. I'll get past this at some point. It's just a little jarring to uncover layer after layer of how pathetic I used to be."

Linda grasped her arm and turned her to face her, dropping her box. All Lois' stuff followed."Don't say that. You weren't pathetic. You have never even approached pathetic. You were just..."

"Stupid, then." She moved down the stairs, stuffing things back into plastic bags. "Having some affair with a guy who didn't even know what he was doing, or should I say who..."

Linda stopped her. "You were too young to know better, plus you were crazy about him. That's a dangerous combination and any girl might..."

"But he wasn't crazy about me." She grasped her bags and moved out of the stairwell. "He was in love with someone else. But I apparently still..."

"You mean Lana Lang?" Linda snorted behind her. "That wasn't even for real." Linda blocked her in the hall, holding the box again. "Half the town was in love with her. I used to suspect she had some kind of buried meteor power, herself, with the stalkers and the..."

Lois moved past her. "Lana just makes it worse. Now I understand her sad, little smiles all this week. I think she pities me and it's so humiliating, I..."

"Lois, Lois, Lois." Linda grasped her arm from behind. "I want you to calm down and breathe deeply."

"Linda, I don't need one of Dr. Melcher's exercises right now. Never mind. I'm fine. I just want to get in my door and..."

"You're not fine." Linda stopped her from moving. "You're having some kind of episode." Linda rubbed her arm, then moved in front of her. "Maybe we should get inside and get our head together." She nodded sagely.

"Our head?"

Linda started tugging her down the hall. "Come on. Everything's fine. You're just not thinking clearly. Let's get you some tea and..."

"Linda, what's with the sudden..."

"Lois, it's okay. Lana Lang has been gone a long time now."

Lois squinted at her. "Lana Lang has been in town all week."

Linda smiled and nodded. "Of course she has." Linda took her keys.

"I thought you knew. Everybody else seemed to know."

"Of course. Everybody knows." Linda unlocked the door and opened it. "Now let's sit down and..."

"You seriously don't know," Lois marveled. "Linda, Lana Lang never died."

Linda dropped the box. "What, now?"

************************

"This is insane." Oliver paced the tower's living room.

"Ollie, this isn't that big a deal." Clark scratched at his chin. He'd thought he'd got the last of the mustache glue, but he could still feel it. When Clark had insisted he needed his glasses, Turpin had slapped a full-on fu-manchu on him to balance out the nerd effect. "I'll just be out of things for a bit." Or he hoped it wouldn't take long. It wasn't like he needed to become best friends with Mannheim's goons. He just needed to be close enough to the members to use what powers he had to find out what they had, why they had it, and what the hell they were going to do with it.

"No. This is insane," Victor reiterated. "First you say you can still train, now you're saying you can't even do that."

"I'll keep in touch. If something goes down, I can be anywhere you guys need me to be."

"This isn't about us needing you," Victor said tiredly. "I told you. This is about you needing us. The main reason we're sticking around town is you."

"That and the basement digs are extinct," AC piped in. "Any word on that, Arrow?"

"What about the digs?" Clark asked. He'd only been there briefly, but the lair had seemed good enough.

"It was a little too conspicuous, having headquarters right below the city. I had all the equipment I could relocated to Rhode Island. Queen Industries owns some property in Happy Harbor."

"That wasteland?" Bart scoffed. "I've been through there. Not even a good seafood restaurant. What're we gonna do? Operate out of a cave?"

"Maybe we'll have to," Ollie said, rubbing his face. "You can't exactly trust contractors out of the phone book to build secret headquarters. Can't trust them for anything," he muttered. "Not even converting one simple guest room into a nursery. All we want is an adjoining door to our room and these guys act like I have to rebuild the damned house for it. Structural integrity, my ass. I have half a mind to make a damned hole in the wall mys..."

"Topic," Victor cut in.

"Yes. Okay. Anyway, we'll have to make do here just a little longer. And while we're here, we need to get you up in the air again," Oliver said, staring at Clark.

"And I appreciate it. I really do." He glanced at Bart, Diana, and AC as well. "You guys are great friends."

"This isn't about friendship," Victor cut in. "This is about the team. Word gets around that you're grounded and it gets harder to recruit and..."

"Recruit?" Clark looked around.

"The Justice League needs a few more members," Victor said tiredly. "I can't do everything around here."

"Now wait just a minute!" Bart stood. "You can't do that." He took a deep breath. "You can't just go around calling us The Justice League. We haven't put it to a vote yet."

Victor sighed. "Fine. Everyone for Team Awesome, raise your hands."

Bart raised his hand and looked around, then zeroed in on AC. "Dude, you were supposed to back me up."

AC Shrugged. "It just didn't sound serious enough."

"Fine!" Bart tossed himself into an arm chair. "Just try recruiting without a name like Team Awesome."

"Sorry, Dude." AC stretched. "Listen, I'm cool with Clark taking a vacay. Can we wrap this up? I really want to patrol the waters off Coast City before meeting with the new talent."

Clark stared at AC. "So there really are going to be new..."

Bart popped an M&M in his mouth. "Oh, yeah. This dude's cool. Even gives Greenie, here, a run for his money."

Oliver scoffed. "I didn't think he was so special."

"Oliver, the guy can glow. Just accept it. You can't compete with that shit."

"Whatever. We won't get him, anyway. He's worse than Clark with all the law and order..."

"Recruiting?" Clark shook his head. "New headquarters? It's like you guys aren't telling me anything anymore."

"Could say the same about you," Victor muttered low enough that only Clark could hear.

"I'm sorry. We shouldn't even be talking about this now. You have enough to deal with, getting back to full power," Oliver said. "It's not like you have time to listen to us gripe about new headquarters and recruits and our wife not letting the OBGYN tell us what sex the baby is," Oliver finished on a growl.

"Is she still holding on that?" Diana leaned forward. "You'd think she'd want to be sure."

"It's not even that. It's the room. She says yellow is unisex and I hate yellow. I said a light green was fine for either, but she won't go with that. So I said I'd only go with either pink or blue and she had to pick it now and she's still not budging and, damn it, I want to know!"

"Um, Clark?" Bart leaned toward him to whisper extremely loudly. "Whatever it is you're doing, could you hurry it up? Because we're going to need you around for when Ollie starts showing the bad guys his ultrasounds."

"Shut up, Bart," Ollie grunted.

He looked around, it hitting him that they'd all been rallying around him, but he hardly even knew what was going on with them. There was headquarters, recruiting, Oliver was going to be a dad, Diana had a whole other life in DC, AC was patrolling the oceans and recruiting, Victor was still developing new technology, and Bart... Well, he was sure Bart had something going on.

And he wanted to be a part of it. Of all of it.

He stood. "Guys, I appreciate everything you've been trying to do. And no one wants to get airbound again more than I do. But there are things I need to take care of right now. And you'll have to trust me that they are just as important to me. But, once that's over, I'm in this. And I'll make it up to all of you. I promise."

****************************

"Promise me one thing," Linda yelled from her kitchen. "Promise me you're all going to stop this don't tell Linda crap. It's not like I'm delicate or something."

Lois stilled in the middle of putting her socks away. Delicate wasn't the word for it. Linda had spent the half-hour since Lois had broken the "Lana's coming for Christmas" news alternately moaning and guzzling tea and ordering her around the apartment.

"I never said you were delicate." Prone to hysterics sort of fit, but she wouldn't be saying that, either. Still, even Linda's hysterics had a purpose. Between both of their nervous energy, she was unpacked, had emptied her stuffed mailbox, and thrown away rancid food. Those things might have waited till next week.

Linda poked her head in the door. "No, really. I have been playing den mother to these boys forever now. You would be amazed at what I can handle. Speaking of that, have you smelled your garbage disposal? You're supposed to shove a lemon down it at least bi-weekly so it doesn't smell like something crawled in there to die. Plus, a bag of potpourri in your drawers wouldn't hurt."

She had to ask. "What's with all the helpful tips?"

Linda straightened. "What do you mean? I'm very domestic."

"Linda, I may be missing a few key facts, but I doubt your inner Martha Stewart is one of them."

"Well, it will be. I've been spending more time with our housekeeper. Greta is very excited and has decided to take me under her wing." She grinned and placed a hand on her stomach. "We're nesting." Her grin dropped. "Now can we be serious?"

"Hey, you're the one who went into domestic territory, not..."

"Well, I'm out of it now, so listen. You went on and on about people treating you with kid gloves and now you're doing it to me. And you know what it feels like to be left out. Did you like it?"

Lois shook her head and leaned against her dresser. "No. You're right. But it's not like I think you're fragile. I just don't want you to fly out and try to manage me and..."

"There you go with that again. If you don't want me to fly out, then tell me not to and I will respect your wishes."

Lois cocked an eyebrow. "You will?"

Linda threw up her hands. "Well, I'm not going to have much of a choice in a few months, am I? They won't let me fly in the third trimester. Still, I don't want to be kept in the dark. Are we clear on this?"

Lois sighed and nodded, feeling like a well-scolded child. "Yes."

"And I do not manage people... Okay, except Oliver. But that's my job. I give well-needed guidance, otherwise. I accept that I have no control over anyone else's life." She moved to Lois' closet. "Now, come on. Get your best dress on. Chop-chop."

Lois watched, dazed at how Linda not managing her was going. "My best dress?"

"It's a shame you live in Metropolis. So landlocked out here. I don't know how I put up with it for even three years. It's no Star City with the yacht parties and great museums, but at least you get the occasional party."

"What party?"

"I went through your mail."

"Linda..."

"Oh, I only tossed out circulars and junk." She turned. "But your gas bill has red edging. You better get on that. Anyway, I saw the postcard."

"What postcard?"

"The one officially announcing the Daily Planet Christmas Party tonight, Silly. Best way to start living it up." Linda started pulling out clothes.

Lois froze. "I... I don't know if... I wasn't going to do anything tonight."

"Well, now you know there's a party. God! Do you have anything that isn't black, navy, or brown?"

"I can't go there. I don't have to go back to work till tomorrow."

"This isn't work. It's a party."

"Well... I was going to relax tonight."

"You've been relaxing for days now. You should get back into the swing of things. What better way than a party? You yourself were just moaning about only having a job. If you want to get a life, then go out and get one. Have some fun." She pulled out a black slip. "You think this would be okay with pearls? Like in the late nineties when..."

"See? I can't go," Lois said firmly. "I have nothing to wear."

Linda shook her head and dropped the slip. "I can't argue with that."

"Good." Lois sank to the bed.

"Lucky for you, I still have an hour." Linda barreled past her, grabbing her hand on the way. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Shopping... duh."

*********************

"Try the burgundy," she heard just before it flew over the fitting room's door.

"I'm not done with the blue one," Lois mumbled before pulling it off her head. "And can't we save this for Christmas? It's a work party. I don't want to waste a fancy dress on..."

"Nice try," Linda cut in, swinging the door open and shutting herself in, more dresses in her arms. "I've got another three here and I've had to fight at least three women for each one. So zip up and let me see the lines. We need to get out of here. I'm getting some dirty looks."

"I can't get the zipper," Lois moaned. "And I don't even want to go. I..."

"Oh, turn around." Linda took her by the shoulders and turned her to the mirror. "Look, I get it. This has been a major life-changing couple weeks and you're just nervous. But you gotta get over it." She looked over Lois' shoulder. "Hmmm. It makes you look short. But it's great for the boobs. Do they do alterations here?"

"Linda, I don't think..."

"No. You're right. Time's wasting. We need something more prêt-à-porter."

She let Linda unzip her. "This isn't about being nervous," she lied. "I just want a little more time to mentally prepare myself." That much was true.

"Okay, I'll ignore the fact that you weren't even the least bit impressed with me using French in everyday conversation..."

"No. That was very smooth."

"Wasn't it? I've gained so much polish since being in politics in these last... Oh, crap on a cracker! I think I tore it." She shrugged. "Oh, who's gonna know?" Linda cleared her throat. "And I meant merde on a cracker. Anyway, don't be nervous."

"I'm not."

"It's like with the pool. You don't wade down the steps whining about how cold it is, you jump right in and then it's nothing. Everyone knows that. Now lift your arms."

"I'm not nervous," she insisted again. "I just don't see the point in going to some party."

"It's a party. Why does there have to be a point? Straighten up. I need to zip."

She didn't know how to explain it. She'd spent two weeks away from who she'd been all this time. She couldn't just slip into that life like it was a damned dress.

"Oh, this is the one," Linda said turning her around.

A damned, beautiful dress.

"I'm personally sick of green, but it really brings out your eyes, plus it's festive and Christmassy." Linda snorted. "And just wait'll he sees it."

"Wait till who..."

"Do you have a push up bra? We need some more cleavage to really make this work."

Lois batted Linda's hands away from her breasts. "Linda!"

"Oh!" Linda stomped her foot. "Would you let me help you?"

She crossed her arms. "It depends on why. If you're talking about Clark, then..." She shook her head. "I don't get it. I thought you didn't want him... or me... us... to..."

"Doesn't mean he can't suffer."

She put her arms down. "Linda, I have to work with the man every day. That's hard enough without you trying to..."

"Oh, stop whining and look." Linda turned her around again and pushed her breasts in from the sides. "See?"

Lois smoothed her hands down the side. The fabric was satiny, gathered in intervals, which made it look more contoured somehow. It was knee length, but fitted all the way down with an off-shoulder neckline and a deep green netting that settled over her shoulders. She felt like she'd walked out of a movie screen, circa 1944. "I don't hate it," she breathed.

"It's perfect," Linda said, finally letting up on her boobs. "Now we just need a good push-up bra and then... Lana who?"

"I have a strapless push-up bra. That could... Wait!" Lois spun on her. "If that's what this sudden makeover urge is about, I... I don't even care. They can go hold hands and be in a legitimate relationship and doodle all over their notebooks and I won't even... care. Like I said," she finished, lifting her chin.

"Riiiight," Linda drawled.

"Okay. Maybe I'll care a tiny bit, but only because she just... lords it over me, like she knows I was some pathetic other woman while she was the one he'd be seen with in public."

"What?" Linda laughed. "Lana didn't know about you and Clark. I mean... Didn't she?"

"Of course she did. She had to."

"Oh, please. She was too busy being... Lana. Whatever that entails. I still can't get a handle on her, with the France and the Talon and the astronomy and the Lex..."

"I know!" Lois was kind of glad she wasn't the only one confused.

"Seriously, pick a life," Linda said. "Now turn around."

Lois obeyed. "But she knew. Didn't she? I mean, the way she talks to me... It's this kind of whisper-talk like she's in a sickroom."

Linda waved her off. "Oh, that's just Lana. I don't think she ever talks at full volume. She has no idea. And that's the best part. Lana has no idea you're competition."

"I'm not competing for Clark," she said through her teeth.

"Of course you're not," Linda said cheerily. "You don't have to because you already win. Now let's get this off and get out of here." Linda unzipped her and pulled up.

"I don't want to win. I..." She suddenly saw the price tag as the dress sailed upwards and off her. "Oh, my God. I saw... four digits. Linda, I can't afford..."

Linda draped the dress over her arm. "You don't have to. It's from me. It's a Christmas present."

"For who? A small country? I can't let you..."

"Yes, you can."

"No. It's too much. I could never..."

"Yes, you can!" Linda stared her down. "In a matter of months, I'm going to be wearing circus tents. Let me buy a damned pretty dress for somebody!!!!"

Lois stared at her red face and nodded dumbly.

Linda gave her a sunny smile. "Okay. Off to check-out."

She grasped Linda's arm. "That better be my only Christmas present."

Linda pulled away. "So you get dressed and I'll ring it up."

"Linda..." She was gone. Lois pulled her shirt on, then sat hard on the cushioned bench and stared at her clothes, mingled with all the dresses, just a jumble of color because... Lana didn't know. Even before she knew herself, she felt this strange sort of unspoken rivalry with Lana, but maybe she'd been reading into things.

If Lana didn't know, it... it changed everything. She remembered her conversation with Martha. Maybe Lana really did just want to reconnect with an old friend, relive an old life, if only for a little while. And how had she reacted? Like a prize bitch.

Lana had been duped. Lana was the wronged party. And by her and Clark. And even Clark was drugged up.

If Chloe were here today, maybe she'd want to mend the fences in some small way after all she'd done. Maybe Lois didn't have a clear recollection of what she'd done, but that didn't change that it had been done. "How am I going to... Aaaah!"

"Aren't you dressed yet?" Linda shut herself in again, a bag dangling from her wrist.

"Almost." Lois hastily stepped into her sweat pants.

"Come on. It'll take us a year to get to the door. It's three days to Christmas and this place is packed."

"Don't remind me," Lois groaned, a thankfully mundane problem coming to mind as she stuffed her feet into sneakers. "I haven't done any Christmas shopping."

"Well, I'll be in by Tuesday. I'll help you get it all in." Linda pulled her out of the fitting room. "I have some pull, being a billionaire mayor's wife, though not with certain people." She stopped short, glaring at a pale woman who was, for her part, glaring at the scrap of green hanging out of the shopping bag. "It would've made you look sallow," she sniffed, pulling Lois behind her. "Come on. Forty-five minutes till I gotta go. Salon time."

************************

"I'll be by in a bit to fix the porch and then..."

"Don't worry, Clark. It can wait till morning." Martha yawned.

"I probably can't come in the morning," he said, shoving a black turtle-neck into his plain, brown duffel bag. He'd have to wear long sleeves if he wanted to hide Superman's suits. Luckily, it was winter.

"Afternoon, then."

"I might be busy. But I'll paint very quietly." He was trying to figure out if Irving Clemp would wear khakis when his mother spoke again.

"It's getting dark now. There's no point in you coming here just to paint..." There was silence, then... "What aren't you telling me? And what's that shuffling noise?"

She had ears to rival his. He stilled in the middle of packing jeans since he'd decided Irving Clemp just wasn't a khakis guy. "Nothing. I just have work tomorrow and I'd rather get this done."

"Claaaark?"

"Mom, it changes nothing. I mean Daily Planet or... some other place. It's just something I'm doing. It has nothing to do with you. Really."

"Clark, just tell me what's going on."

He couldn't. He couldn't tell anyone. He'd signed contracts and, no matter what, that meant something. But he could explain just a little. "I'm packing. I've taken a two-week vacation from work," he finally said.

His mother was silent. "I'd say that was just great," she began, "if I actually believed you were taking a vacation."

"I have some things to take care of." He heard her sharp gasp. "Mom..."

"Are you going to him?"

"No. Mom..."

"No. I'm fine. I understand. You've come back before. I just have to believe you'll come back ag..."

"Mom, this has nothing to do with Jor-El." Or maybe it did. Lionel's time spent as his "vessel" might be a part of this. But he had no way of knowing that as of yet. "I'm not going to the fortress. I won't even be away from Metropolis." He winced. That was probably more than he should have said.

"Then why are you packing?"

"Because Clark Kent might be out of sight for a bit, but not Superman."

"What does that..."

"And, believe me, that's all I can say about it."

"But..."

"Just trust me, Mom."

There was silence. "I trust you. I suppose you've already told Lois."

He paused. "She doesn't want to see me. I thought this might be a relief for her."

"Doesn't mean she shouldn't know."

"She'll know. I'll leave a note on her desk."

"Oh, Clark..."

His phone beeped and he pulled it away. "Hold on, Mom. Oliver's on the other line. Be right back." He pressed talk, wondering what he wanted. He thought everyone was okay with this. "Hello?"

"I can't believe you!"

That wasn't Oliver. "Linda?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd answer if it was me, considering how no one talks to me about anything!"

"Babe," he heard Ollie say in the background. "Calm down."

"Lana being alive is one thing, but now you're just running off to God knows where..."

"Didn't think you cared," Clark said wryly.

"Duh. I don't. But she does. She's tied herself in knots about working with you and now you won't even be there!"

"Then she has less to worry about," he said loudly, then winced, knowing he was yelling at a pregnant woman. But she started it.

"God! You just don't get anything. What're you gonna do? Leave a note on her desk? Like some... coworker?"

"I don't know," he said sheepishly.

"Then leave it now. Right this second."

"There's a party going on now."

"Exactly! And she's there, wringing her hands about talking to you and you won't even show up!"

"Then she'll probably be relieved. She doesn't even want to see me. She..."

"Just get dressed and go to the damned party! Don't make me call your mother."

"But..."

The dial tone sounded in his ears and he pulled the phone away. He pushed talk again. "That wasn't Oliver," he said miserably.

"Linda?"

He sighed. "Lois is going to The Planet's Christmas party. Looks like I am, too. I'll just... tell her there."

"Well, I was gonna say..."

"I still don't get what the big deal is. I kind of thought this was a good thing, this falling just when things between us were getting... confused. She doesn't even want to see me. I thought not seeing me was a good..."

"Clark..." His mother chuckled. "You just don't get it."

First Linda, now his own mother. "Okay. What don't I get?"

"When a woman spends hours brooding and rehearsing how to react to someone, she'd rather those don't go to waste."

"But..."

"Furthermore, all that brooding usually helps put things in perspective."

"What if she..."

"Clark, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then put on a nice suit and show up. Let everything take care of itself. It usually does."

*********************

She'd usually storm through the revolving doors and upstairs to the bullpen. Not tonight. She crept into the lobby with her coat buttoned tight and her head down.

"Take your coat?"

"Huh?" She clutched it tighter and turned to a red-headed girl behind what was usually the coffee kiosk.

"Didn't you want to check your coat, Miss Lane?" The girl smiled, flashing braces.

"Uh... Yes." She hastily pulled it off. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

"It's Kelly. I'll be interning here in the spring semester. We haven't met, but I've read all your articles. And, oh my God, I love your dress. Anyway, you're like my role model or something. I used to blog about strange occurrences in Kenosha, but nobody took me seriously. When I read your Superman article, I knew I had to come to Metropolis, so I'm at Met U and I want to be just like you." She grimaced. "I didn't mean to say all that. I'm sorry." She tore off a ticket. "Here."

She suddenly thought of Chloe Sullivan, churning out The Torch, full of weird and wacky occurrences and dreaming of The Daily Planet. Lois grasped her hand before taking the ticket. "Thank you." She didn't have anything better to say, unless it was "Please don't look up to me. I have no idea who you'd be looking up to anymore."

She risked a glance up as she shoved the ticket into her decolletage. Usually, the lobby was just a place to move through, maybe stopping at the coffee kiosk or a sandwich cart. Not tonight. It was decked out with twinkling lights and... palm trees? She glossed over that and focused on the crowd, at least two hundred people in formal dress.

She hardly recognized it. Maybe that wasn't just because of the party, Maybe nothing would be the same now or ever again. She saw Jimmy behind the sandwich cart, transformed into a makeshift bar, complete with holly sprigs and... flowing margaritas? As if that wasn't surreal enough... Jimmy. Jimmy had been her boyfriend. Jimmy had no idea, but she did.

She backed away. How could she really come back, knowing what she knew now? She suddenly felt like a square peg here, in what used to be her niche. She'd never be able to...

And then she saw him. Her breath caught in her throat. He was at the makeshift bar, laughing at something Jimmy said and she moved closer, not even aware she was doing it until she was right behind him.

He stiffened as she drew near, as if he knew she was there.

Her heart stopped as he turned, eyes lighting on her. She suddenly wanted to spill everything, every fear she'd ever had, how torturous it was, being away. How much she needed him to make her feel safe, remind her of who she was.

She didn't need to. He pulled her in, strong arms enfolding her. She'd never felt so safe.

"Missed you, Lane."

"I missed you, Perry," she choked out.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE