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I huff. “Okay, not in the mood I see.”
“Sorry it’s been so long since I called.”
I haven’t spoken to her since Thursday. It may not be long for some siblings, but we usually talk every day.
“What did she say?”
“She wants me to pack up, break the contract with Blackbridge, come back to New York, and clean up the mess she made with the company.”
“I thought you were getting fired.”
This was the last conversation I had with her after leaving Sandra Halen’s office and telling her office clerk to tell her to go fuck herself. I was certain Deacon Black would get wind of it and let me go. I haven’t heard from him.
“I haven’t been fired. I told her I’d be in breach of contract. She said if he sued that she’d pay the penalty.”
“Do you think he’ll sue?”
“Probably not. More than likely, he’ll be happy to see me gone. I haven’t benefited his company at all.”
Gaige will probably be happy he’ll no longer have to work with me as well. It’s a win-win for everyone except my poor, battered heart.
“Then come home. I miss you.”
It’s almost enough to have me rushing around the room to pack my things.
“I don’t know,” I tell her instead.
“Because there’s something else keeping you there.”
There is subjective because I’m not even in St. Louis. There is Gaige Ward.
She’s too on the nose, and I haven’t mentioned much more than him getting on my nerves, but as my sister and best friend, she’s all too aware of my tells.
“You’re falling for him.”
“Who?” I ask, playing stupid.
“That jerk.”
I’m silent.
I plop down on the bed, rubbing at my forehead just to spite my mother because she’d warned me of early wrinkles.
“He took me to a family function on Saturday.”
“Are they horrible? I’d never force Gabe to go to any of ours. Ever. I love him too much.”
“It was amazing,” I mutter. “They actually love each other. Did you know people like that exist?”
“Kind of a culture shock, huh? I felt so weird after I went to a baby shower for Gabe’s sister before we got married. I felt sick halfway through and wanted to leave.”
I pull the phone away from my face, glaring down at the thing as if it personally offended me before putting it back to my ear.
“I felt that exact same way. Why did you never tell me?”
“I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging. We didn’t have that. You didn’t have that. I felt guilty that I was going to get to have that while you weren’t.”
“I never would’ve been mad that you were going to be a part of that,” I say, tears once again threatening. I hate that she hid part of her joy to protect me, and it’s just one more thing our mother managed to mess up for us.
“Did they hug you?”
“Like they’d known me for years?”
“Did you cry?”
“Right on his grandmother’s shoulder, and it’s like she knew I needed it without even knowing my story. Do we look that broken?”
“Old people somehow just know. Gabe’s mom just patted my hand and sat quietly with me. She let me cry in her bedroom and offered me her makeup when I was done. I looked horrible when I walked out. You know how tan they are and we’re pasty white, but they were all so kind. No one said a thing.”
“I was wrong,” I confess.
“About what?”
“There are more than a few good men left in the world.”
“I knew you were wrong when you said it, but you wouldn’t have believed me if I had argued with you at the time. Is the guy you’re working with, the one you’re falling for, a good man?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.
Maybe. Possibly.
But he still walked away from me. He didn’t fight for me. He didn’t hold me and tell me that he wanted more.
So there’s a chance he isn’t.
Or maybe I’m not his one, when I so desperately want to be.
It happens like that sometimes.
Unrequited feelings are a real thing.
People suffer with it daily.
I just know I can’t do it any longer.
I can’t face him. I’m not strong enough.
“Have you told him how you feel about him?”
“No.”
“You should.”
Weren’t the tears on my cheeks Saturday afternoon enough? They should’ve been. Had I seen them on his face, I wouldn’t have been able to walk away. I would’ve had a conversation at least. Unless the sight of them were enough of a conversation for him. Unless the sight of them were the only answer to unspoken questions he needed.
“I’m coming home,” I tell her. “I’ll see you soon.”
We end the call, and I pack. For the last two weeks I thought I had nothing to go home to, but I can throw myself right back into work. I didn’t need a man or love or all of the things that go with it before, and I sure as hell don’t need it now. This hurts too much. It’s not worth it as far as I’m concerned.
