“Like Nick invited you to visit?” Calder asks. “Only to dump you once you arrived.”
The reminder is like a splash of cold water. Nick never outright asked me to visit him. He hinted here or there that he’d love to see me in person but never actually issued the invitation. I was the one who suggested the trip, who planned everything.
Who was left sitting alone at the airport when he realized he didn’t want me after all.
“What did the text say?” Mom asks.
I summarize it for them, leaving out the details of the picture.
Mom clasps her hands together. “How sweet! He’s giving you a reason to visit.”
“That’s not an invitation,” Calder insists. “It’s just a passing comment.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Dad says. “We’ve already established that Calder is an anti-romantic.”
“I am not an anti-romantic!”
Everyone ignores him.
“I have an idea,” Dad says. “Why don’t you try surprising Alex? Sure, maybe Calder is right, and Alex will be annoyed or upset about the surprise because he doesn’t feel the same way you do.Or”—he holds up both hands, indicating he wants a dramatic pause without any interruptions—“he will be so happy to see you that you will know, without a doubt, that he wants to be with you.”
I expect Calder to interject with more cynicism, but he’s typing on his phone with suspicious enthusiasm.
“Are you still using my relationships to fuel your writing?” I demand.
“I’m thinking a Bluebeard-coded climax,” he explains, an almost feral brightness in hisexpression as he continues rapidly typing. “Where the protagonist tries to surprise his husband-to-be and instead finds a lab full of past specimens and notes on his current experiments.”
“Honey, no writing at the table,” Mom scolds.
I look at her in bemusement. “You don’t have anything to say about him trying to use me for inspiration?”
She shrugs. “I can only control so much.”
“In all seriousness.” Calder sets down his phone and locks eyes with me. “This is a stupid idea. No one likes surprises.”
“I love surprises!” Mom insists.
“No, you like spontaneous plans where you know exactly what to expect at every step,” he says dryly. “You’re both encouraging him to waste time and money on this big romantic gesture that will most likely backfire. Alex is going to be just another Nick, pulling away thesecondtheir relationship starts to become serious.”
Doubt creeps in with each word.What if I visit Alex, and instead of bringing us closer, it’s what finally breaks us apart?I scroll up through the messages, trying to find anything solid that might push me in one direction or the other.
Except it feels like I’m scrolling forever, because somehow in the past week, we’ve already exchanged hundreds of texts. Dozens of pictures back and forth. The only breaks in the long stream of messages are when one or both of us are trying to focus on work. I never said it, but every message I send is a quiet declaration:I wish I was there with you.
And every message he sends back, every conversation he initiates when the silence goes on for too long, is a reply:I wish you were here, too.
“I’m going to visit him,” I declare.
Mom and Dad grin and wish me good luck.
Calder continues to look disapproving, but he doesn’t try to stop me.
By the end of dinner, I’ve already bought my plane ticket.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Alex
“You, me, drinks tonight.”
I look up from my keyboard to see Nick leaning against my doorframe, looking like a damn cover model for Librarian Chic. It’s Friday, and the man is wearing crisp brown slacks andsuspenders. I search the small office for whoever he’s supposed to be addressing.
