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“I can, if you want.”
“Please,” I say. We say goodbye and hang up.
My dad was never thrilled about Emily. One night I came home, high as the clouds from my time with her. My smile must’ve looked insane, as I floated from room to room, drunk from our kisses and hand-holding and soul-baring. We had kissed for the first time, and I had never felt that sensation of ember sparks like I had with her.
My dad stared at me throughout dinner and leaned over when my mom walked away to prepare dessert.
“Don’t let this girl get in your head. You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
I remember looking down at the table and then looking my father in the eye, something that made my skin crawl and stomach churn. “I think I’m in love with her.”
“You’ve known her for four days.”
“I know that,” I said. I pounded my chest. “My intuition tells me that she’s the one. I feel it in my bones.”
My dad gave me a patronizing head nod. “You think you do. You just want to sleep with her. There’s a difference.”
It was always more than that, but I closed my mouth. “We talked about me seeing her when I get back from Costa Rica. San Francisco isn’t that far from LA. She goes to USC. She’s smart, Dad. We will be smart about this.”
“I hope so. I’m counting on you,” he said.
Out of the view of my parents, I texted Emily, I miss you.
My phone lit up instantly. I miss you too. :heart emoji:
Everything pointed to her. I felt pulled to her by the universe.
That’s why everything that happened felt so off.
In that moment, I knew she was the one. I thought she didn’t feel the same way.
But sometimes Emily looks at me over our daughter’s head, and I’m transported right back to that week.
When I fell in love with her after four days and she fell in love with me.
21
Emily
After I dropped Olive off at my parents’ house and a couple hours of pacing, I furiously type my talking points into my Notes app. Every few minutes, I glance at the tiny house. We discussed him coming over at four, so five minutes before, I covertly watch Max walk the distance from the tiny house to my back porch. The way his arms swing, the way his shoe hits the ground reminds me too much of Darcy walking the field in the best version of Pride and Prejudice.
Talking points. That’s what I should focus on. Not how sexy my baby daddy walks.
When he mentioned that he told his mother but didn’t talk to his dad, a deep whoosh of breath left my lips. It would happen eventually, but at least the shit won’t hit the fan…yet.
That he won’t hear that the small-town dumb bitch his son slept with actually took his money and had the baby, no matter what he wanted.
I would have to face him eventually, but I secretly hoped I would never have to. Maybe I should head to the wishing well with a penny of my own. Maybe a whole roll.
First talking point—visitation. How many times a month? Will Max come up and see her? Will Olive go visit him in San Diego? How busy will he be when she’s there? I know nothing about dental practices and how taxing they are on your personal life, but I intend to find out.
Second talking point—I will casually mention that I broke up with Burke. It has nothing to do with Max whatsoever. It’s a simple coincidence. It has nothing to do with Max’s sexy walk or his eyes that burn imaginary holes into my skin.
A knock rattles my back door, and I smooth down my tank top and adjust my shorts. My outfit is cute but not trying too hard. There’s no way I’m trying to look sexy for Max. Why are my hands shaking? Huffing out a breath, I open the door. How does he do that, looking up like he’s in a cologne ad? How does he know what to do to make me question everything?
“Hi,” he says, walking in and looking around. “This kitchen is so quiet without Olive.”
I close the door and press against it. “I know. It’s wonderful.”
