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It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s gone now.
I clear my throat. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters anyway. It was just a stupid piece of wood.”
His face crumples. I slide out from underneath his arms, leaving him staring at the space I once occupied.
***
I type out a new message to Cal, jabbing my screen like it personally offended me.
You have another package.
Cal’s reply is instant.
That one’s for you.
My mouth drops open.
You ordered something for me?
I owed you after scaring you last night.
I battle between opening the package and leaving the cardboard box to rot in the garage. Curiosity wins over common sense, so I grab a pair of scissors from the kitchen and open the box.
My hands tremble as I pull out a new baby monitor.
Oh my God.
My heart betrays me in that moment, throbbing painfully in my chest.
It’s just a baby monitor, I try to rationalize with myself. Except it has nothing to do with the baby monitor and everything to do with the fact that Cal cares enough about me to replace the one that fell into the water.
Honestly, I’m not sure he ever stopped caring.
How am I supposed to hate the man when he does thoughtful shit like this?
You’ll never be able to hate him and you know it.
No, but at least theideaof hating him makes me feel in control.
This feeling though? The one that makes my heart beat wildly in my chest and my head spin with ideas about him?
I need to shut that shit downfast.
“Por Dios, no empieces conmigo.” I smash the side of my hand mixer for the fifth time tonight. Between it overheating from too much use and its old age, I’m lucky the motor still runs.
I haven’t been able to part with the baking tool, especially since my mom got it for me, but I’d kill for one of those fancy mixers right about now. Once upon a time I had one, but it broke and I never got around to buying a new one because a majority of my money went into making sure Cami had everything she needed.
If only they didn’t cost more than half a paycheck.
“Esta vaina.” I continue banging the side of the mixer.
Someone chuckles.
I look up to find Cal standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a smile. “All good?”
“Having the time of my life, thanks for asking.”
He motions toward the mixer in my hand. “Need any help?”
