Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet #2) - Lauren Rowe Page 0,79

to her, I felt like everything she was saying was basically a retelling of Beauty and the Beast.”

“Well, aren’t you clever.”

“I’m a genius.” She grins. “So, did Nadine mention that bonus they’ve offered to you?”

“She did. I told her it’s a non-starter. I’m not going to propose on national TV. Making Mimi happy was the only thing that made me consider it. But now that we’ve told Mimi the deed is done, and Nadine is so happy with you on the show, there’s no reason for me to even think about that.”

“A quarter-million bucks is a lot of money. Especially when you’re giving half your salary to me, and you’ve bought houses for Sasha and Mimi.”

“Please, Laila, don’t feel guilty about the salary thing. You negotiated your share, fair and square.”

“I wish I’d said yes to ten percent, like you first offered. I think that was fair.”

“Stop, please. We’re going to make bank on the duet. And my album is releasing next week. Honestly, I don’t want to talk about the money again. We’ve pressed the ‘reset button,’ remember? The money is part of that.”

Laila sighs. “You promise you’re not secretly mad about the money?”

I kiss her cheek. “Baby, I’m not even capable of being mad at you.”

As I’m saying that last sentence, there’s a knock at the door.

“Adrian?” Sasha’s wobbly voice says. My cousin sniffles behind the door, making my breathing halt, before adding, “Honey, Mimi is ready to see you now.”

Twenty-Seven

Savage

As I enter Mimi’s bedroom, I nod at the caregiver, Felicia, in the corner, lay my laptop on a table, and slide into a chair next to the bed. “Hey, Mimi,” I whisper, taking her hand. She looks impossibly frail under her covers. Exhausted like I’ve never seen her before. “I’m here, Mimi. I’m right here.”

My grandmother opens her eyes and purses her lips, asking for a kiss, and I lean forward and give her one, before settling back into my chair and cupping her slender hand in both of mine.

“Would you like me to carry you around the house, so you can tell me stories from when you and Jasper were young?” I whisper.

Mimi shakes her head, turning me down. And I realize talking has become difficult for my sweet grandmother.

Swallowing hard, I gently squeeze Mimi’s frail hand. “Would you like me to sing to you?”

This time, Mimi nods. So, I launch into singing the lullaby that’s become part of our ritual, and when I reach the end of that simple song, and Mimi is still awake and attentive, I sing another. This time, one of my all-time favorites by one of my favorite singer-songwriters: “Grace” by Jeff Buckley. Buckley was a genius, if you ask me, who died way too young, well before he’d graced the world with the full extent of his gifts. And the song of his I’ve chosen is about accepting mortality in the face of true love—a song about letting go gracefully. Frankly, I can’t imagine a better song for this moment.

Grace.

It’s the word, more than any other, that describes what Mimi has always shown to me. The gift of unconditional love and acceptance.

When I finish singing, Mimi whispers, in a barely audible voice. “I’m ready, Ady.”

Tears flood my eyes. Sasha warned me last night that’s what Mimi’s been thinking, but I didn’t expect Mimi to say it to me so bluntly. So starkly, without warning or lead-in.

The words “Not yet, Mimi!” form on my lips. But I bite them back and swallow them down. Of course, I want my grandmother to stay here with me. I can’t imagine a world where she isn’t here to chastise me with a gentle “Adrian” when I’m being a shithead. To smile at me when I’m being goofy. And most of all, to love me, no matter what stupid thing I do or say. But I know all of those desires are selfish—that now it’s my turn to show Mimi grace.

Still cupping Mimi’s slight hand in mine, I rest my elbows onto the mattress and say, “If you’re ready to go, then go. Cross the bridge to Jasper and Frank. Have a picnic with them. Give them lots of hugs and kisses. I’ll miss you so much—more than I could ever say in words. But I promise I’ll be okay, and that I’ll spend the rest of my life doing my best to be the man you’ve tried to teach me to be.” I wipe a tear from her cheek. “Oh, how you’ve tried to