Talia’s half right. We were in love, but one of uswasbrave enough to admit it, and it wasn’t me. Callum always told me how he felt. After that day in the cafeteria, he didn’t hide his feelings anymore. He was honest about what he wanted from me. I was the one who held back.
I guess that’s a part of our relationship that hasn’t changed.
“Look, as much as I’d love to keep trotting down memory lane with you, I just pulled up to the school, and I’d better go rescue the nurse from my overdramatic child.”
“You’re going to feel so bad when you find out he’s actually sick.”
“I won’t, because he’s not. I know my son, and let’s face it, you have blinders on when it comes to your nephew. He’s an angel in your eyes.”
“You’re damn right he is,” I agree. “Little Perfect.”
I’d bet the measly paycheck I got for my last article she just rolled her eyes at my old nickname for him.
“This is why I’m the favorite,” I remind her.
“No, you’re the favorite because you send him elaborate gifts from wherever you are in the world.”
“That reminds me, I need to mail you the stuff I picked up from Pike Place Market.”
“Chloe…” To untrained ears, she might sound irritated, but I know her better than that. She’s grateful for everything I do for her and Ian. Raising a kid by yourself is no easy feat, and it’s even harder when you have a parent like Chloe’s dad pulling the strings and trying to control every aspect of her life. “I love you, you know that?”
“I love you too, Tally.”
“Does that mean you’re going to call me before you see your husband again?”
He didn’t feel like my husband when he was looking at me like a stranger just an hour ago.
“Yes, I will.”
“Good. Now go enjoy a long bath in that tub you texted me about while you still can. How long are you there again?”
“They put me up through the weekend, which is good, because I looked at my bank account this morning and it just read HA.”
“You know…” She tries to sound casual, but I know her better than to believe that. “If you’re hurting for money, you could always?—”
“Don’t.” I already know what her next words will be. “I’m not touching it.”
She sighs. “All right. Fine, fine. I get it.” But I know it’s not the last I’m going to hear about it. “Just let me know you’re good, yeah?”
I promise her I will, and she lets me know she’ll send an update on Ian later before we hang up. I pull the phone away from my ear, and I’m surprised when I find a message waiting for me. I expect it to beSeattle Dailyagain—they’ve been calling all morning since I reported Dirk for his behavior—but it’s not.
It’s my parents.
Mom: I tried to call for an update on the interview. Please return it whenever you get the chance.
I want to laugh at how succinct and impersonal the message is, but that’s just how my mother has always been. She’s not cold or unemotional; she’s just straight to the point. My father is the more loving of the two, which is why his message makes me smile.
Dad: We love you, our little lucky charm.
I type out a quick message, letting them know I’ll call later, then set my phone aside. I love my parents, and I know they loveme too, but sometimes there’s a part of me that blames them for where I currently am with Callum. In the end, it was all my doing, but they weren’t innocent in it either, especially my mother.
I should have known that when she suddenly decided to support my writing, it was all a ploy to get me away from Callum.
“Wow. London, huh?” She hums happily. “You know, you don’t seem happy in the lab. Maybe you should apply. You did always love writing. Why not give it a shot and see what happens? You’ve given up so much for Callum and have gone wherever he goes for years. Take a leap for yourself.”
I convinced myself her support meant I was doing the right thing. We were finally on the same page, so why wouldn’t that be a sign? Ididlove writing, and as happy as I was for my husband and all his accomplishments, I wanted some of my own. She just gave me the nudge I needed to make it happen.
My phone buzzes, and I reach for it, expecting a message from my dad, likely an emoji that doesn’t mean what he thinks it means, but it’s not him. I spring up to a sitting position, my head feeling all fuzzy from moving so quickly, but I don’t care.
