“Well, that takes care of that. What’s going on, big brother?”
“I don’t know!” I yell, raking my free hand through my hair and pushing off the door. I pace across my apartment to the very windows Chloe was just staring out of.
All it does is remind me of her, so I turn on my heel, marching back over to the door. It’s pointless. I swear the space still smells like her floral perfume.
“Fuck,” I murmur as I move through my apartment, trying to find somewhere she wasn’t.
In the end, I wind up in my bathroom, the door locked, even though I’m the only one here. I tell myself it’s to keep Percy out, but I don’t know how true that is. I think I’m trying to lock my thoughts out, too.
“Cal?” my brother says again. “You okay, man?”
“I…” I gulp in another breath as I sit on the edge of the giant bathtub in my en suite. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, that’s fine. You don’t need to know. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
I hate that he’s so good at calming me down. I’m supposed to be the older brother, but I don’t feel like it now, just like I haven’t any of the other times I’ve called him in a panic over the years. It’s probably why he’s the future lawyer and I’m not. As long as it doesn’t involve his love life, he’s always been good at gettingthe facts, then tackling a problem with a level head. I’m envious, especially in times like these when my mind won’t stop racing.
“Chloe.”
He laughs lightly. “Yeah, man. I figured. That’s usually the reason you call instead of text.”
I wince because he’s right. I’m horrible about calling unless I need someone to talk to. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I do the same to you with my problems.”
He’s right. We hardly ever talk just to shoot the shit. We do that over text. Calls are reserved for the serious stuff.
“So, what happened with…Chloe?”
There’s a pause before he says her name, and I know it’s because he never knows what to call her. Before we separated, it was always “my favorite almost sister” or “the wife.” Now, he doesn’t know what to call her, just like I don’t.
“She was here.”
“In Seattle?”
“No. I mean, yes.” I exhale deeply again, my breaths slowly returning to normal. “Yes, in Seattle. And in my apartment.”
“Shit.”
“Shit,” I agree.
A few beats pass. “Are you okay?”
“Do I fucking sound okay, Stef?!”
For a moment, I feel bad for yelling at him, but it goes away quickly as I rememberwhyI called him.
“That’s fair. I deserved that. Guess my teachers were wrong when they said there’s no such thing as a stupid question.” He sighs. “All right, talk to me. Tell me everything.”
I spend the next ten minutes relaying everything that happened last night until the moment Chloe walked out of my apartment. When I’m finished, he’s quiet, and I check the phone to make sure I didn’t lose him somewhere along the way, but he’s still there.
“Stefan?” I ask.
“I’m still here,” he answers. “I’m just trying to process it all.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, me too.”
“Do you believe her?”
