“The happiness in that home was just like a movie, only true.” She grins, and one of the tears brimming in her eyes falls. “I knew that day that I could andwouldone day have a movie-like love story too. I want the same house the Hunters made. It’s possible. I learned that with the week my mother gave me. And though eventually guilt got to her and she came back for me, I went home to that unhappy house. Still, there was the memory and idea of what could be.” She exhales, her speech tiring her. “That’s why I do what I do. I’m going to find that fantasy romance. I’m going to make that fairytale home.”
“Okay, then.” I’m at a loss for anything else to say. She’s stunned me. I wasn’t expecting Fran to describe my home—loving parents, happy, supportive family—as if it were a fairytale. To me, it was normal. She’s humbled me. She’s made me look at things differently.
“What about you, Callum? What do you want?”
I swallow. After all of that, how can I be anything less than honest with her?
“I recently broke up with someone. Simone. It was… difficult. I need a break.”
“Oh,” she says, her brows cinching. “So, a long relationship, then?”
I clear my throat. Because that’s not really why. “Five months.” I shrug, unsure if that’s long or short. “But it made me realize that I need a break from love. You know? I need time to ponder. To focus.”
Her brows cinch, and her head jerks as if I’ve said something shocking. “Ponder?”
“Yeah.” I nod, but she still looks confused or maybe appalled—I’m still getting to know Fran. “Ponder.”
“What’s to ponder?” She stabs her finger on this diner table. “What’s more important than love? You want to take a break from the most important thing in the world?” Her tone rises with panic as she speaks.
I lift my brows and clear my throat. Who knew Fran would take this so personally? Then again, she did just tell me all about her home without love. It’s possible I should have put two and two together. Still, I have to be forthright with her.
“It’s not that simple. I know love is important. I do.” I shrug. “It’s just not for me.”
Fran gasps, her eyes blinking, one palm flat on the table. “Not for you? We’ve gone fromtaking a breaktonot for you.”
“It’s complicated, Fran.” I clear my throat. Maybe this was a bad idea. “I just mean that it’s a personal choice. One that’s right for me. I’m not saying it’s the same for you. Clearly it isn’t. But it’s okay if we’re not on the same page, right?”
“The page where we believe love is the most important thing in the world? That it exists?—”
“I understand that love exists. I just don’t need it. Or want it. My situation is different than yours.That’s all. It’s com?—”
She holds up a hand, shutting me up. “You know what I think?”
I really don’t. I’m not sure I’ve met anyone like Fran Fairchild before. To guess what she’s thinking would be near impossible. I wobble my head in a shake. “What?”
“Love is important for everyone, Callum. See? It’snotthat complicated.”
Eighteen
With Callum’sadvice and Rosalie backing him up, I decideyesto the red lipstick andnoto leaving my shoe next to his car. It was a little childish, but how else am I supposed to live out myCinderelladreams?
I’m home after a very long dinner. Callum’s on a FaceTime call, and Rosalie is on the couch. They’re waiting for my report.
“You look tired. Doesn’t she look tired?” Rosalie says, her eyes dropping to my cell propped up on the TV stand.
“I’m not tired. It was just a long dinner—usually there’s an activity or something involved. But we just ate. That’s it. Do you have any idea how many times I had to reapply my red lipstick?”
“Fran,” Rosalie moans.
“How many? I’m curious,” Callum says.
“Four! You can’t eat chicken parmesan and keep your lipstick looking like perfection.” When I get no reply, I add, “Red lipstick was my only romcom reference tonight, guys. I needed it to represent.”
“Of course you did,” Callum says with a nod. “I’m sure reapplying did the job.”
“Ugh. Just tell us about the date.” Rose reaches out and shakes my arm.
“It was fine.” I shrug. “Maybe a little… slow.”
