“I never said that. Look, it’s not going anywhere, so—”
“So don’t go.”
“I told you… It’s the principle.” She sighed. “Can we talk about it tomorrow night? Over dinner?”
“Let me think about it,” I said, throwing her own words back at her.
She flinched visibly. “Okay.” She scooted off the bed and grabbed her purse. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Later that morning, I met my father for breakfast. “What’s up, Dad?” I gave him a hug. “Sorry I’m late.”
Dad grinned. “No problem. I ordered orange juice and biscuits.”
“Cool.”
“How are you, son?”
It had been hours since Sloane left my rental, and we hadn’t spoken since. No texts, no FaceTiming, no calls. Which was strange since we’d talked multiple times a day since bowling. “Good,” I lied.
True to form, my father called me out on it. “When did you start lying to me?”
I dropped my head and apologized. “I’m just in a foul mood.”
Dad chuckled. “Been there. Yesterday, actually.”
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Just campaign stuff. Olivia and I were wondering if you would shoot pictures for our event next month.”
I’d been working as a photographer for many years, but this was the first time my father had asked me to work with his campaign. “You know I don’t like those people.”
Laughing, Dad shook his head. “I don’t either, son. But it’s a necessary evil. Think you can do that for me?”
I agreed. “Let me know the dates and I’ll plan to come back.”
“So whatareyour plans? I must admit we enjoyed having you around. I hope you know that you can always come home. You can stay at the house until you find a place of your own. Save the money on the rental.”
My father was speaking to a part of me that was very interested in being near family. I’d considered a move multiple times, but I’d yet to settle on anything concrete. I just knew that Charleston was no longer home. “Been thinking about it,” I admitted. “But I need to take some time and figure out what effect a move here will have on my career.”
“I definitely understand, son. We haven’t always agreed, but you’ve done well for yourself. I’m proud of you, and I want you closer. So if I have some sway, I vote for Michigan.”
“We’ll see.”
“Taylar told me you were seeing someone here.”
“Tay talks too much,” I grumbled.
“Is it true?”
“Somewhat.” I told my father about Sloane, starting at our first meeting and ending with our last conversation. Of course, I kept it PG, and downplayed the emotionalandphysical aspects, but he got the gist.
“So you like this woman?”
Likefelt extremely inadequate, but I was hesitant to say it was more than that, so I nodded.
“Well, the best thing I’ve ever done was fight for my marriage,” he said. “If you care about Sloane, don’t let her walk away without telling her how you feel. Let her know how important she is to you.”
“Don’t you think it’s too soon to be making declarations? We barely know each other.”
