One by one, everyone heads out, until it’s just Cal and me in the house.
“I’m happy for you, Elle,” he says quietly. “I just wish this had come sooner.”
“Me too,” I admit.
“Does this mean you’re going to try and move forward from this?” he asks, his gaze as steady and searching as his voice.
“I hope so," I say. "I’m meeting with my therapist once a week. Talking about it helps.”
“I wish you’d talk to me,” he says, his voice gentler now. “I want to be there for you.”
“I can’t talk to you,” I whisper, “because I’m talkingaboutyou.”
“You are?” he says, lifting an eyebrow, a slow smile forming. “I’d love to be a fly on that wall.”
“Have you not seenThe Fly?” I shoot back. “It doesn’t end well for him... it.”
I smile, my guard slipping, and my resolve to keep him at arm’s length melting into a puddle at his feet.
“I better go,” he says.
Disappointment flickers through me.
“If I don’t leave, I’ll want to kiss you,” he adds quickly.
“I’m not stopping you,” I say, my heart skipping a beat.
“You’re not stopping me from leaving… or from kissing you?”
Before I can decide, he reaches for me and pulls me into his arms.
I let him wrap me in the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heart.
His lips hover so close to mine, I can almost taste them, but the shrill ring of his phone shatters the moment before either of us can act.
He lets out a short, exasperated grunt and pulls the phone from his pocket.
“It’s Meghan,” he says.
“Answer it,” I whisper.
“No,” he replies. “I’ll call her later.”
“She’s probably pretty upset right now,” I point out. “She needs you.”
“You need me,” he says, like it’s a simple fact. As if I can’t live without him.
He’s not wrong.
“Answer it,” I repeat, sinking into the couch. I lean back and cross my legs.
He gives me a slow once-over, from head to toe, then back to my face, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat.
“Don’t move,” he says, heading for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be right here,” I say softly.
“Hello,” he says, just before the door clicks shut behind him.
