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Even though there’s so much that’s gone wrong between us.

She walks into my house for the second time in recent memory, and I take a second to just marvel at the fact that Calista is here, in my space, again.

This time, though, I hope she’ll stay a little longer.

I shut the door behind her. “I picked us up some stuff from the store. I hope you still like steak and that pasta salad from the deli. They kept the same menu after the pack relocated.”

Calista gives a light, if nervous, laugh. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“How could I forget?” I smile. “You were obsessed with it.”

“Hey, it’s good!” she laughs, genuinely this time.

So far, this is going well, and I start to relax. “Do you want something to drink? I have water, some soda…”

“Do you still make those great whisky sours?”

I pause. Of course I still mix a mean whisky sour. But I didn’t think it was going to be that type of a date. I look at Calista. “I can make one of those. If you want,” I add.

She nods, tucking her hair behind an ear. “Yes, please.”

I head over to the bar to start mixing.

“So, how long have you lived on your own?” I hear Calista ask from the living room behind me.

“Oh, about four years now.”

“How did your mom feel about that?”

I grimace. “She wasn’t pleased.”

“But you did it, anyway?”

There’s a strange, bitter note in her voice. I turn back, the cocktail shaker in my hand. “Yeah. It was kind of a matter of necessity,” I say.

I study her, trying to read her reaction. She looks… angry.

I’m about to open my mouth and ask why when there’s a knock on the door. Calista’s eyes widen, and they shoot to me. “Are you expecting anyone?”

My heart sinks, and a knot forms in my stomach. “No,” I growl.

There’s only one person who likes to stop by my house unannounced in the evenings.

I stomp to the door, my mood darkening as I go. When I open the door, my fears are confirmed.

“Mom,” I say, my voice low. “What are you doing here?”

My mom blinks at me. “Well, that’s no greeting for your mother! I was just driving by, and I saw Amara’s truck out front, so I wanted to see what was…” Her voice trails off.

She’s staring at Calista, who I guess moved behind me.

“What in the hell is she doing here?” my mom says from between clenched teeth.

I step back. “You remember Calista. She’s in town, visiting Amara.”

My mother stiffens. “And you’d let her back in? After all she’s done to you?”

Behind me, I hear Calista suck in a breath. She shuffles on her feet.