“I know. I need to change something, and right now I feel like this is the only thing I have control over.” I know what she is referring to, and I wonder if she is going to say anything else.
She just gives me one more tight squeeze and walks inside. I offer a toast to her, and this time, Sahara is there. She won’t look away from Rowan, but Rowan refuses to look in her direction. The tension is palpable in the air, to the point that Charlie is looking for the cause.
When he stares in my direction, I know he is about to pull me to the side.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
“No. I don’t think we should talk at all. I think we’ve said everything we need to say to each other.”
“What does that mean?” His eyebrows furrow and his lips get thin.
“It means I wish you all the best, Charlie, but I think we need more distance.”
“Are you serious?”
“I love you as a friend, but it’s time I focus on the people who love me the way I want to be loved. I need people who root for my relationship and care about him, too. I think you need to focus on finding out what it is that you need as well.” I kiss his cheek and then walk away.
Looking for Callahan, I go into the living room.
In there, he is holding court, and showing me one of the things I love so much about him. The guy can talk to anyone, and will talk to anyone if given the chance. I’m the same way, so I join and spend the rest of the evening in never-ending conversations. I stop drinking after the toast to Rowan, so I can slowly start to sober up. The last thing I want is to ever throw up again. Callahan, who is capable of drinking a bottle of whiskey and still stand, is perfectly okay well into the night.
Once things start to slow down and my dad passes out on the couch, I take Callahan upstairs.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I say.
His face lights up and then dims as he begins to look uncertain. I hold up a key chain with the car that he bought me at the market.
“What’s this?”
“It’s where I am going to be putting your house keys. No matter what I do when I’m in San Francisco, I want it to be your house that I call home. If that’s okay.”
He throws me on the bed and climbs on top, kissing all over my face. Even when I burst into a fit of giggles, he doesn’t stop. When he lets me up, he grabs my face and kisses my lips once more.
“I didn’t want to bring up you staying here, but now that you are through it all, what is your plan?” He lies down on his elbow.
I do the same, facing him. His pale skin is luminous under the lights, and I can’t help but be in awe. But his shoulders look stiff ashe fights with himself not to frown. This is a conversation we have both been avoiding.
“I talked to Madame Genevieve, and she is going to let me teach a dance workshop. I just want to get back to feeling good in my body. I’m still processing everything that happened.”
I know I don’t want to leave him. I can’t imagine not seeing his face for weeks on end. But I can’t let that be the only deciding factor. As much as I have given in to the idea that I’m going to be his wife, I still need to make sure I know who I am outside of him, and this year has unraveled everything I thought I knew.
Still, I picture a life with him where I come home every day from teaching future stars and curl into his arms. Eventually, we’ll add children to that, and maybe a dog, and it will all be perfect.
He doesn’t look happy at that answer, but I didn’t expect him to.
“No matter what, I’ll be calling San Francisco home at some point. I just need to get more established before living here.”
“Okay, love,” he says, looking a little more relieved. “For Christmas, since you are coming, why don’t you bring your dad?”
I try to imagine my father and Cormac seated on the couch watching football. They are both yellers, but for different teams, so that might pose a problem. But for so long it’s just been me and him. What would it be like to be surrounded by a bunch of people who would one day care about him, like he cares about Callahan?
“Yes, I think I’ll ask him to come.”
“Good.” He kisses my hand and then rests it on his cheek.
“Hey, I want to take you on a date,” I say, sitting up. I cross my legs and face him.
“Again?”
