Hailey looked down, losing herself in her thoughts.
“I could give you a long answer, but I think the simplest way to do it would be to just say that I get to know the person, not the stereotype. If you know Corey the person and not Corey the image or the caricature or anything other than the real thing—warts and good parts all combined, all recognized and all appreciated—then you can make an accurate decision. Put everything else to the side, look at him objectively, and then allow yourself to feel whatever you want based on your objective opinion.”
It was such simple advice. And yet it resonated with me in a way nothing I’d told myself had. Maybe because Hailey had lived through it. Maybe because she’d gone through it knowing full well my first experience with Corey. Maybe it was just because she was my sister and the only person I felt I had a full relationship with.
But she was right.
Corey today was not the Corey of yesterday. He’d have his problems, sure, and he’d have things that I’d need to be aware of. Even if he’d “fully matured,” he’d still have things I’d need to be aware of.
But he’d grown up. He’d shown me as much in the past few weeks. And if anything, him being firm and setting a boundary by saying he needed me to be all in or all out…it could have been said better, and it could have been better delivered, but I could understand why he’d done it. I could see the pain and heartache behind it, even if Corey would never admit to it out loud, perhaps out of fear of looking soft.
I’d need more time than just this moment to make sense of it. I still couldn’t even say if Corey and I would wind up being a thing and back together. But I could say that Hailey, bless her, had given me enough to run with and start to figure shit out.
“That’s helpful,” I said. “I really appreciate it, Hailey. You’ll help me figure out what I need to do.”
“Of course. If it makes you feel better, I struggle with it despite dating Sam. Maybe because of it. But without it, you’re right. I never would have been able to look past it and be with Sam. Maybe my journalism background helped, I don’t know.”
“Either way, it’s gotten me to an interesting spot,” I said. “Listen, I’m starving. Do you want to go get food?”
Hailey held up a finger as she thought.
“Yes, but I feel gross and need to shower. So if you can wait like twenty minutes, we can do that. You’re welcome to grab some fruit in the interim while we wait.”
I nodded. Hailey took her leave, heading for the shower, while I grabbed an apple to munch on. I mindlessly turned on Netflix, started playing the same episode of “Breaking Bad,” and leaned back into the couch, feeling just a hair more comfortable—
A knock came at the door.
I looked down at my watch. It was barely after eleven on a Sunday. Who the hell was knocking at this hour? I tried to consider the possibilities—I doubted it was anyone with the apartment complex since Hailey hadn’t put in any work order requests. Was it one of her friends she hadn’t told me was visiting? Perhaps.
The knock came again. It wasn’t impatient or hurrying, but it was firm and to the point. I decided to go over and open the door.
A man with long, blond hair flowing down to his shoulders and a nice suit stood by the doorway. He had his hands in his pocket, looked to be in his mid-to-late forties, and wore an amiable smile…but one that left me feeling a little bit uneasy.
“Good morning, are you Melissa?”
“I…am,” I said, feeling uneasy.
“You must be Hailey’s sister. My name is Mark Roberts; I used to be Hailey’s boss. I wanted to speak with her for a minute. Is she available?”
“Uh, no, not right now—”
“Will she be soon?”
There was something unnerving about this whole encounter. Mr. Roberts seemed like a nice guy, at least in behavior, but the very fact of being here so early in the day…
“Yeah, I’ll have her reach out to you.”
“Well, I’m really hoping she can speak to me in person. Since I got laid off recently, I found a new job and thought she might be interested. And I’m terribly sorry, but may I come in and speak?”
He didn’t wait for me to say a word. He walked in himself, not bothering to take his shoes off. I turned to face him in disgust, but when I did, the door shut behind me—and I had most certainly not closed it myself.
Someone behind “Mr. Roberts” had shut the door for him. I was trapped inside with this man, whoever he was. And it didn’t feel good.
“I’m sorry for being so bold,” he said as he took a seat at the kitchen table. “It was just urgent that I speak with Hailey as soon as possible. It sounds like she’s in—”
The running water shut off.
“Well, she was in the shower.”
