I can’t help but smile when I talk about Kirby. I tell them everything, including how he saw right through me, how he helped me without even knowing, and how his note was the one that gave me the strength to make the phone call.
“I love him,” Zara states. “He got you to smile like that”—she points to me—“and to wear jeans. He’s got my vote.” I laugh at her and I don’t say another thing because the front door opens and chaos erupts. The kids come running into the room, and I’m surrounded by my family. I hug the twins, who take me off my feet, and I look up to see my parents watching with tears in their eyes.
I’m shuffled from person to person, getting all the hugs and kisses, talking to each and every one of them. I look around and the only thing that is truly missing from all of this, who I want by my side, is Kirby. My phone is in my hand with the last text he sent me and I never got a chance to answer him. Except, he’s not pressing me to answer him. I know if I don’t answer him, he’s not going to belittle me about it. Not make me feel guilty for not taking the time to answer him. It’s going to be the opposite. He’s going to want to hear all about how my day with my family was and he’s going to do it holding my hand. He won’t have to say a word, all he’ll have to do is hold my hand, and I know it’ll be okay.
I hear commotion again and look over when Matty walks in, wearing his tracksuit. He goes to Sofia first and then kisses his kids before going to my parents. He finally finds me at the end and gives me the biggest hug.
“Hi, my sister,” he greets softly in my ear, and like with Zara, I bury myself in his hug and softly cry. “Hey,” he says and walks with me to the side, “you’re okay.”
I let go of him and wipe away the tears from my face. “I know, it’s just.” I take a deep inhale. “It’s so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too.” He looks around to see if we are alone. “Met your guy today.”
“My guy,” I say anxiously but then the feeling leaves, and I just feel proud that he is my guy.
“Kirby.” That’s all he has to say and the smile on my face just gets even broader and my heart feels like it’s getting even bigger inside my chest. “He’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, I know.” I nod, wanting to say that he’s more than a good guy.
“But how did you know about him?” I ask him, knowing the girls would not have shared that with him.
“He came to see me. Introduced himself to me.” He snickers. “Got to say, he’s got balls.” I look down, trying not to giggle. “Told me something that burned me to my soul.” His words go low and my head whips up to look at him.
“What?” I ask, the back of my neck starts to fill with heat.
“Doesn’t matter what,” he says, lifting his big hand to my cheek. “What matters is that you know you were too good for Trent. You were and always will be,” he says. “Also, if I ever see him, I’m going to break his face.” I can’t help but snort out laughing at the end. “I mean, I’m sure there is a line I have to get into but…” He shrugs. “Just so you know.”
“Thank you. I think I have to make a phone call.” His eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah, excuse me.” I turn and walk away from him, going into the house and toward the front where the formal living room is.
I pull up his phone number, and he answers on the second ring. “Hey,” he says softly, “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“I know. What are you doing?”
“Sitting on the couch, watching television,” he returns and I turn my head toward the sound of my family.
“Can you come over?” I ask him. “It’s literally three minutes from you.”
“Are you sure?” he asks me.
“Yeah, something is missing, and it’s you.”
“Okay, baby. Drop me a pin and I’ll come right over.”
“Text me when you get here,” I tell him, dropping him the pin. “I’ll meet you outside.”
“Okay,” he says, hanging up.
“There you are.” I look over and see my father coming into the room. “Was looking around for you and didn’t see you.”
“I’m here,” I say, turning to him. “I was just on the phone.” I hold it up.
“Everything okay?” he asks me and I nod my head. “You look different.”
I’m about to answer him when my mother comes into the room. “Hey, you two,” she says, smiling at us and walking over to my father and wrapping her arms around his waist. “They are bringing out the desserts.”
“I don’t think I can eat another bite,” I state and my phone vibrates with a text.
Kirby:
