The Secret of Ella and Micha Epilogue

Ella
I’ve been back in Vegas for almost two weeks now and things are good. I signed up for some summer art classes and my internship at the museum is great, even though I spend most of my day cleaning up after people and running errands. I also started counseling. As much as I’d like to believe I was getting better, when I’m alone and lost in my own thoughts, the darkness sometimes gets to me. But my therapist is nice and the visits seem to be helping.
Lila is letting me borrow her car for the weekend, so I can drive back home and meet up with Dean and my dad. I’m glad to be making the drive alone, that way I’ll have twelve hours to mentally prepare myself. Although, deep down, I wish Micha was going with me.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you,” Lila asks as I snatch the handle of my suitcase and scan the room for forgotten items.
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine and you have classes and your math tutor thing.” I stop at the doorway, needing to get something off my chest. “Lila, thank you for letting me borrow your car and for just being there for me.”
Her smile is bright. “Don’t get all weepy on me. You’re only going to be gone for a couple of days, silly.”
We laugh, exiting the building and head down the stairs. Our apartment is right by the campus and we keep Lila’s car in the parking lot most of the time. When we reach the grass that reaches across the campus, my phone starts to sing inside my pocket, a sad turned happy song.
“God, again?” Lila throws her head back dramatically. “Can’t you two go five minutes without talking to each other?”
“No.” I smile and answer the phone as Lila scoots away, giving us some privacy. “So how’s the weather in Seattle?”
“Pretty sunny, actually,” Micha says and I can hear the smile in his voice.
I jerk on my roll away bag as it gets caught in a hole in the lawn. “That’s funny, because I thought it was supposed to be rainy there.”
“Nope, I got a blue sky and a hell of a lot of sunshine over my head,” he says. “And I’m really enjoying the view.”
“Good, I’m glad,” I tell him, missing him like crazy. “Are you still driving out here next weekend?”