Surrogate for My Mafia Ex
It’s been a while, but I can still recognize it by the decorative flamingos he keeps on his front porch.
The driver agrees to wait for me and I jog up to knock on the door, hoping Evan has made it home from the hospital by now. After a moment, his boyfriend Michael opens the door.
“Oh,” his mouth drops into a slight frown. “Hi, Harper.”
“Hi,” I answer nervously. He obviously already heard about what happened earlier. “Is Evan home?”
“Yes, but he’s resting,” he says dismissively. “You should probably come back some other time.”